It's Bloody Early Evening!
by PrussianAwesomeness
Summary: About three things I was absolutely positive. First, Francis was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him that wanted me. Third, there was a part of me that wanted him. Fourth - coming out to my father was going to be difficult. FrUK AU Twilight parody
1. Preface

**Disclaimer: Heyheyheyheyheyhey! See my penname? Does it read Hidekaz Himaruya? No? Well then, that means I'm not him so that obviously means I dont own Hetalia. That also means I dont own Twilight - vampires wouldn't be sparkly if _I_ wrote Twilight ;D**

**Small note: I apologize for the shortness of the first three chapters. It was during the time where I lost my copy of Twilight and had to write everything off the top of my head. Lo siento. **

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Preface:

The hunter approached, knives glinting in the moonlight. Oh, so he wasn't planning to kill me with his obscene strength? For some reason, a part of me relaxed. At least something in my life would be completely mundane. As he smirked at me, my life began to flash before my eyes – my first book, my first fall, coming here – meeting _him_.

The hunter advanced closer, trying to tease me by taking his time to kill me. As I looked around and noticed with absolute horror that there was no escape, I thought about how this all had happened.

It's all because I fell in love with that damned frog.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

Mother had wanted me to move to America with her and her new boyfriend. Of course, I refused. I liked it here in England. It was home – always had been and always would be. I didn't want to move for her or for anyone.

That's why I decided to move in with my father. He lived in a small rural town at the north of England called St. Helens. A long time ago, when I was just three, my mother took me and left my father saying she was sick of living in a small lazy village. He lived alone, after breaking up with my mother. As I recall, even though I was living with my mother, I had always visited him in the summer, and hated it. Every time I went, I could tell why my mother didn't want to live in that town anymore; it was like a sleeping town. There was nothing to do there. It was insanity to actually _want_ to move in with him… but it was better than going off to America with mother and her "hunk" of a boyfriend.

"Are you sure you have everything?" my mother asked my worriedly. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Mother, I've got everything, calm down," I assured her.

"Be careful ok? And watch your temper in school. You don't want to get into trouble with the principal like you did in your other school," she reminded me.

I grimaced. I didn't like to remember those unspeakable days; they were the black marks in my otherwise almost perfect life. I used to be a really bad kid – telling off teachers, smoking, getting into fights – the sort. But I've gotten better – I swear. I'm a gentleman now.

"You worry too much," something I seemed to have inherited from her, "I'll be fine," I said, picking up my bags. I was to take a plane to where my father lived; it only took an hour. My mother pulled me in for one more hug. Groaning, I awkwardly hugged back, with the bags still in my hands, knowing I'd miss her. I didn't have any friends apart from her. I wasn't very good at making them.

"Be good," she murmured into my ear before letting go of me. I smiled.

"I'll try," I replied, turning my back to her.

And so, my adventure began.

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**A/N: Fun fact - Arthur's parents are Victoria and Albert Kirkland after Queen Victoria and her husband. **


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

St. Helens, where my father lived, was a very small town. So small, that there was probably only a couple hundred thousand people living there.

When my father came to greet me, it was raining. Lovely. I was trading moving to always sunny America to live in this always raining purgatory.

"Arthur," my father, Albert Kirkland, greeted me gruffly, still wearing his uniform. My father was the chief of police in that dreary village.

"Dad," I replied, nodding at him. Albert wasn't the type to display emotion. I guess I got that from him.

"Err – welcome. I have a surprise for you waiting when we get home," Albert said, averting his eyes. Home. It was hard to consider that place home.

"A surprise?" I asked. He nodded, still not looking at me. It was obvious that he hoped I'd like it.

My father lived in a boring old townhouse in the heart of the town. Because St. Helens had no airport, we had to drive from the neighbouring city to St. Helens. My father and I got on his cruiser. The car stuck out like a sore thumb, but I tried to ignore that. During the short drive, my father and I didn't exchange a word, so I was asleep by the time he pulled up on the driveway and didn't immediately see the present waiting for me. My father shook me awake. I woke up, and my jaws dropped.

"A…car? Dad, you got me a _car_?" I asked, shocked. Granted, it wasn't a really spiffy looking car. It was more of a truck… an old [ancient, really] truck that was rusting around the wheels. I loved it.

"I thought you might've wanted one," Albert murmured.

"Thanks," I replied meaning it, walking up to the truck.

"'thought you could use it to drive to school," Albert continued. I winced. School. That meant being in a building filled with humans and possibly pixies [though I would probably be the only student who could see them… as usual] who were always too busy and too annoying to be friends with.

"Dad –" I began but I was cut off by a stern look. The chief of police's son was going to go to school no matter what.

"You'll be starting tomorrow," he said in a finite tone, already heading off into the house.

Just great.

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**A/N: St. Helens is actually a real town. I've never been there, so if I get any facts wrong please let me know**


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

My classes were boring. My teachers were boring. Everyone here was boring. I was beginning to wonder whether coming to St. Helens was a good idea. The only good thing about this blasted place was that since I had been in an advanced English course back home in London, I was too far past the grade 11 curriculum here and since they didn't allow grade 11 students taking grade 12 courses, my last period class was a spare – which I used to go home early.

My morning was painful. After Science, I was dying of boredom, but added to that was Math, which ultimately made me decide that this was the most boring school ever. However, after that period was lunch. I was quite thankful for that.

"Hey Arthur!" a voice said cheerfully behind me. I turned around to see a tall blonde pixie beaming at me. I recognized her; she had been in my math class. People walked by her, jostling her to the side because they couldn't see her. I didn't want to reply. It was my first day – I didn't want to seem like a lunatic already.

"Err – hello… Michelle?" I muttered, holding my hand to my ear in an attempt to look like I was talking on the phone. "Sorry, I'm not good with names," I added quickly.

Michelle shook her head. "No, you got it right! How do you like your first day of school so far?" she asked, floating so that the ending of her skirt was right in my eye level.

"It's ok I guess," I said, shrugging. Michelle burst out laughing as if I had said the funniest thing ever.

"You're so cute! I'll see you in the cafeteria!" She cooed, zooming off. It was good that I had possibly made a new friend, but Michelle was far too optimistic and bubbly for my likes. Plus, she seemed like she had taken a fancy to me. She was nice and all, but I really didn't like girls in that way [especially when they were pixies]. I just didn't understand them.

I wandered around the hallways, emptying by the moment, attempting to find the cafeteria. I should've just followed Michelle – finding the cafeteria was becoming hopeless. I was ready to just sit down where I was standing and eat my lunch on the floor.

"Hello. Are you lost?" a voice said from behind me. I turned around to see a short boy – or were they a girl? It was hard to tell – their black hair ended just at their earlobes. They had eyes that were hard to read; they were deep and seemed monochromatic.

"Err – yes. I'm new here. My name's Arthur Kirkland," I said, sticking my hand out for a handshake.

The person bowed slightly, nodding. I retracted my hand, not knowing how to react to their response. "I am Kiku Honda. But you may call me Kiku," Kiku replied. Kiku. It wasn't a guy's name – _or_ a girl's name as far as I knew. It would be rude to ask them for their gender, so I just decided to let it be. I could find out later some other way. "Are you looking for the cafeteria?" they asked me.

I nodded. "Well, first, I was planning to go to the washroom, but I can't seem to find that either…" I murmured, looking around. "How does anyone find anything here?" I joked half-heartedly. Kiku shrugged.

"Force of habit," they suggested, already walking in a new direction. Not wanting to get left behind, I followed hastily.

"What grade are you in?" I asked. I hadn't seen Kiku in any of my classes so far.

"Grade 11. And you?" they replied.

"Same here," I replied. There was a silence. It wasn't really an awkward silence, and I was glad of that. I wasn't the type who liked talking and I could tell Kiku wasn't either.

"Here is the washroom," they said, pushing open the door to the boy's washroom and walking in. I guess Kiku's a guy then. I followed him in.

"So is this school always so boring?" I asked him, as I walked into a nearby urinal. Kiku waited by the sinks.

"I suppose so. I don't find it that boring. School is tedious… but it prepares us for our life ahead, so it is necessary," Kiku replied. After flushing, I joined him at the sinks to wash my hands.

"I guess so… but I think I could do without math, don't you think?" I joked. Kiku stared at me incomprehensively. I guess suggesting that math sucks to an Asian wasn't the smartest of my ideas.

After drying my hands, I followed him towards the cafeteria. It was easy having Kiku with me; not only did he help me find my way throughout the school, but he was a friend without having to try. I didn't have to do anything to become friends with him – it just happened.

"This is the cafeteria," Kiku announced only a minute later. It seemed to be close by to where I had been when we first met. Figures that I wouldn't be able to find the cafeteria.

"Thanks, err… could I-" I began.

"ARTHUR! ARTHUR COME SIT HEREEEEE!" a voice called out. Michelle.

"Would you like to join us?" I asked Kiku, not wanting to ditch him like that.

"Us?" he asked curiously.

"Me and Michelle," I replied, pointing. Michelle was sitting beside a boy wearing all blue who I recognized from my science class. He was clearly not a pixie.

"That's Peter – there is no Michelle in our grade," Kiku replied, mystified. I rolled my eyes.

"That's because you can't see them. Oh well; want to join us anyways?" I asked.

"Ok. I usually sit with Peter," Kiku replied. "Thank you for the invitation."

"Err—you're welcome," I replied, walking to the table with Michelle and Peter.

"This is Arthur!" Michelle said enthusiastically to Peter. Peter seemed to be hanging onto every word. Peter was a rather small boy. He seemed to be one of those boys who hadn't been visited by Lady Puberty just yet.

"Hullo," Peter said, smiling at me. The moment Michelle turned her back to talk to someone else, Peter's smile faded.

"Peter, were you talking to the air again?" Kiku asked. "I am very worried for your sanity."

"I was talking to Michelle! She's a pixie!" Peter insisted. "Arthur can see her so that means I'm not crazy, right?" he shot at me. I nodded.

"Only a few people can see pixies – I've given up trying to explain myself. So, sorry if you can't see them, but they're there," I replied.

"Yea and - oh no," Peter said, looking past me in horror. I turned around in confusion. Kiku grabbed my shirt.

"Don't turn around!" he said quietly.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Just don't. Wait," he replied.

"Why can't I turn around?" I asked confused. What could possibly be freaking out Peter and Kiku like that?

"Because you might make eye contact with _him_," Peter hissed, averting his eyes.

"Him?" I asked, shaking Kiku's grip on me and turning around.

A tall boy with small blonde curls framing his face, the rest of his long golden hair tied in a messy ponytail effortlessly walked into the cafeteria. It was almost as if the room had gotten quieter with his entrance. It was easy to figure out though; he was breathtakingly _gorgeous_.

His dark blue eyes met with my green eyes and my stomach leaped. His eyes read interest… then confusion… and then anger.

An even taller blonde boy with slicked back hair pushed him forwards, leading him to an empty table. The boy broke his gaze from me and turned away. The second boy glanced at me quickly before joining the other.

A shorter more cheerful boy with light brown hair and an odd curl sticking out from the side of his head joined them, sitting beside the second boy and cheerfully chatting to him. Or rather, chatting _at_ him. The second boy seemed like the type who preferred to listen, than to talk.

A brown haired boy with an odd curl jutting out around his forehead area, not unlike the curl of the boy who had arrived prior to his entrance, stomped through the doors towards their table, wrenching his hand out of another boy's hand, who was taller and had a seemingly perpetual smile on his face. There didn't seem to be any girls at the table, yet it was obvious that the second blonde and the boy with the side curl as well as the last two boys were couples.

"Who _are_ they?" I asked, turning back to my new friends.

"They're the Paye kids. They're kinda… weird… if you get my drift," Peter said, lowering his voice even though there was no reason to; the boys were sitting too far for us to even hear a word of what we were discussing.

"No… I _don't _get your drift – what the bloody hell are you talking about?" I hissed. Peter blinked at me in shock. I had forgotten the reason why I never had any friends. "Sorry, bad habit," I murmured.

"Ok, so see that tall kinda menacing looking dude and that short one? They're a couple," Peter said, stating what to me seemed like the obvious.

"So?" I asked. I still didn't get what Peter was getting at.

"You aren't explaining it correctly Peter," Kiku said quietly. "Dr. Paye and his wife adopted Francis, Ludwig and Antonio – that's the first two blondes and the last boy – when they were really young. Then when Dr. Paye's sister died, she left Feliciano and Lovino behind – those are the boys with the curls – so he and his wife decided to take them in as foster children," Kiku explained.

"Wait… so they are all technically _brothers_?" I asked incredulously.

"Yup – not only are they gay but they're like, doing _incest_!" Peter added.

"What's wrong with gay people?" I asked feeling oddly offended. I myself didn't have anything against gay people.

"Ignore him – he's just mad that Francis never paid much attention to him," Kiku reassured. Peter pouted, looking more and more like a child by the second.

"I sit right in front of him in Spanish class – the least he could do is say hi," he muttered to himself.

"But I still don't get it," I continued, moving on from Peter's failed love life back to the previous topic. "Apart from the incest, why are they weird?"

"They aren't weird," Kiku insisted, "They just prefer to isolate themselves from everyone else."

"You don't find that weird?" Peter asked.

"No… some people prefer to be alone," Kiku replied quietly.

"Which one is the blonde with the ponytail?" I asked Kiku. I wanted to know which one had stared at me, give a name to that odd sensation that had occurred in my stomach as a result.

"That's Francis," Kiku replied. He and Peter exchanged a look. "Why do you ask?"

"He was staring at me a while back…" I said.

"He stares at everyone like the pervert he is," Peter said but a look from Kiku silenced from saying further.

"I suggest you don't associate with him. Francis is very… flirtatious. It's almost like he has a telepathic sense of who finds him attractive, and then will make advances to them. After successfully capturing his prey and being satisfied, he will move onto his next 'victim'," Kiku advised.

"You make him sound like he's a monster," I noted with surprise. The beautiful boy with entrancing blue eyes did not _look_ like a monster. Something in me wanted me to believe that he therefore wasn't one.

"The way he goes after girls and boys makes one assume he is like one in that sense," Kiku replied.

I turned my head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of Francis without full out turning around and staring at him.

To my surprise, he was staring back. I felt my cheeks burn and looked away. There was nothing friendly about that look in his eyes.

"Whoa, Arthur – Francis is giving you the look of death right about now," Peter said, stating the obvious.

"What did I do to him?" I asked.

"I don't know. I've never seen Francis look so mad before," Kiku murmured.

Lovely. Just lovely. My first day at school and I've already pissed off one of the school freaks! What next –run over a teacher with my truck?

_Ring!_ The bell sounded, signifying the end of lunch. I blinked and stood up, realizing I hadn't eaten anything yet. I hastily stuffed my sandwich into my mouth and silently followed Kiku and Peter out of the cafeteria.

"How are you able to digest that?" Peter asked in horror. I know my sandwiches don't look very appetizing, but it was no reason for him to imply that my sandwiches were disgusting! They always tasted _delicious_ to me. I pretended not to hear Peter's question.

"What class do you have next?" Kiku asked me. I swallowed quickly, nearly choking.

I frowned. "Err… history I think," I said, not very sure. Kiku nodded.

"As do I. Come, I'll take you there," Kiku said, leading me in the opposite direction than where Peter was going. We bid farewell to the boy and made our way towards the history classroom. I was looking rather forward for history – I always found it interesting and considered myself a bit of a historian. I knew Britain's history inside and out.

"Mr. Provence? We have a new student," Kiku said to the teacher as he entered the room. I wished he hadn't done that; it brought unnecessary attention to me. Kiku, Peter and Michelle oddly hadn't commented on my eyebrows but I knew that the moment it was noticed I'd be made fun of. It wasn't something new for me but… I didn't want to beat up another kid and get into trouble again.

"Do we? Ah yes… Kirkland is it? Yes, I was notified by the office that you would be in my class. Come in and introduce yourself," Mr. Provence said, motioning for me to come in. I did so, glancing into the class as I did. There were your regular teenaged students sitting at the front of the classroom, pixies sitting together in a group at the back, unable to be seen by the rest of the class – presumably the teacher as well.

That's when I saw him. Sitting near the back, his legs propped up on the table, was Francis Paye. He did have a certain flirtatious charm to him; I noted as he winked at random girls in the classroom and beamed at their reactions. He was obviously very popular with the ladies – and the men – because after all, who could resist those entrancing blue eyes, that soft golden hair and the stubble that lined his chin, making him look like he just woke up gorgeous one day?

I froze. Did I just think that about another _guy_? Another guy, who seemed to have a certain hatred for me? I shook myself mentally and focused my gaze on the wall. Evidently he hadn't noticed me yet.

"Err. Hello. My name is Arthur Kirkland. I just moved here," I said awkwardly, looking around the classroom. No one seemed to be listening, most just staring at me with a vacant look. My eyes fell on Francis again. This time however, he had noticed me.

It was definitely hate in those dark eyes that I saw, shining fiercely at me. But there was something else too. Something like… fear? I smiled to myself. To think that this boy would be scared of me was just as laughable as the thought he'd have a hatred for me.

"Welcome Mr. Kirkland. You may take your seat," Mr. Provence said, sitting down at his desk. I glanced around for Kiku but noticed he already sat down next to another student. There was no empty seat left. Except for one next to Francis, who wasn't paying attention to me anymore. I gulped. Would I really have to sit next to him?

"Mr… Provence? There are no more seats," I pointed out, in an effort to avoid sitting next to Francis. I half-hoped that he'd notice my discomfort and make me pull up another chair beside Kiku but half hoped that I'd be put beside _him…_

"Yes, there is, there's one right there, beside Mr. Paye," Mr. Provence said, pointing to the seat on the right of Francis. It was a peculiar feeling. My heart sank in disappointment yet my stomach lurched in excitement. A part of me wanted to sit next to him, find out why he hated me so much. The other just wanted to stay clear of him.

"Thank you sir," I grumbled, walking towards the seat as if it were my impending doom.

Francis did not acknowledge my arrival, nor did he turn his head or bat an eyelash as I sat beside him. I wondered if I had smelt weird. No, that couldn't be right. I had sprayed myself with Axe. And as the commercials say, that always attracted people – not repel them.

Class wore on. It was obvious that it was meant to be a work period. I busied myself by reading a book I had taken with me from home. _Great Expectations_ by Charles Dickens. I had read it more than 5 times but it had yet to disappoint me.

But for the first time ever, I was not able to become fully engaged in Pip's adventures. Every so often, from my peripheral vision, I would see Francis glance at me with an odd expression on his face. Hunger? What type of hunger? Perhaps Kiku was right, and Francis somehow found out that I found him attractive. Was I to become his newest victim? But why had he stared at me with hatred when we first saw each other? The tension was beginning to irk me.

"Why are you staring at me?" I hissed at him. Francis's head sharply turned to face me again, looking confused.

"When was I staring at you?" he asked. He had a slight French accent. Oh great, a Frenchie. I disliked French people. Something about them annoyed me.

"Just now. And before. You keep glancing at me and it's pissing me off!" I retorted.

"I think you are confusing yourself. Why would I be staring at you?" Francis replied.

"I don't know; how am _I_ supposed to know why a guy like you would stare at people?" I shot back. Francis blinked, offended.

"_Excusez-moi_? What is _that_ supposed to mean?" he asked me, defensive.

"I _mean_ that you should stop staring at me and leave me alone!" I exclaimed, the last part coming out a bit loud. The class looked up to stare at me. I could see Kiku staring at me in horror. Francis was glaring at me, the hatred back in his eyes. I glared back at Francis with an equal amount of hatred before turning away and picking up my book. We didn't talk after that; I had fully engrossed myself in _Great Expectations_ and Francis resumed doing whatever the bloody hell he was doing prior to my outburst.

The bell rang not too long later and not surprisingly, Francis was the first one out of the room. Taking my time to put my things away, I walked with Kiku towards the direction of the parking lot.

"Hey Arthur!" a voice called behind us from down the hallway. I turned around. Kiku paused to stare at me in confusion.

"Yes?" I asked as Michelle ran up to me.

"The secretary said to tell you to check into the office to make sure you were alright and stuff on your first day!" Michelle said, "Sorry but I gotta go now – I'll see you in math tomorrow!" she exclaimed over her shoulder as she ran by.

"Goodbye then, I guess," I called out to her. Kiku gave me a concerned look.

"Not you too," Kiku said in horror, "First Peter, and then you… I suggest you go check out your hallucinations before it's too late." I just shook my head. It was best not to reply.

"I have to go to the office – the secretary wants to check up on me," I said, "Care to take me there?"

"How do you know that the secretary asked for you?"

"Michelle told me."

"There is no Michelle…"

"Like I said, she's a pixie and you can't see her. Now are you going to take me to the office or not?" I asked. Kiku nodded and set off, and I obediently followed. It was surprising how although I could be rude to Kiku, he didn't make a rude remark back or stopped talking to me. I liked him for that. He was probably my first real friend.

"I'll wait outside for you," Kiku offered. I nodded my thanks and walked into the office and found the secretary who had requested for me near the back of the office. She asked me if I was ok with everything and I had told her that I was. There was no point mentioning my new animosity towards Francis Paye – it wasn't like she would care anyways.

As I thanked her and turned away, I saw someone heatedly discussing with another secretary about changing their courses.

"I'm afraid we can't change your course to something else – all the classes are full," the secretary said.

"_Mon Dieu,_ I'll take any class that is open – even if it means taking a grade 9 course or whatever! I just don't want to be in that history class!" Francis exclaimed. He looked up in his agitation and saw me. My green eyes locked with his blue. My dislike was reflected in his eyes… but there was something else there. Fear again. Why the bloody hell would he be so scared of me?

I stormed out past Francis without a backwards glance, leaving him to return to debating with the secretary over switching out of history. He really seemed to want to get out of the class.

And I knew that it was because of me.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, Arthur goes to a school where there are also pixies. Only certain people can see them - most don't. Michelle's an OC I created for this story - she's supposed to represent Mike and Eric. Kiku is Angela - even though in Twilight the girls don't meet until later. Peter is Jessica. **

**Ah and the Paye boys! Get their last name? It's French - so is Mr. Provence's name. **

**Review and Francis doesn't get to switch out of the class - meaning he has to stay in Arthur's history class :D**


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

It had been a few days since my first day of school. It wasn't as though I had instantly become popular, but I had found friendship in Kiku, Peter and even Michelle. That's three more friends than I had at my old school.

It had also been a few days since I last saw Francis Paye. Everyday at lunch his, brothers would all file in and I'd casually turn around or look up for a glimpse of him, and he wouldn't be there. Although this was probably just a coincidence, something inside me kept saying I was the reason he was gone.

"So then I said 'oh my god really?' and he was all like 'um duh!'" Michelle chattered happily to Peter as we walked to the cafeteria where Kiku was waiting. I wasn't very engaged into the conversation, not really caring about the shallow affairs of high school life. Peter laughed a bit too hard, hanging on to her every word. It was painfully obvious how much Peter liked Michelle, although it seemed like she hadn't caught on yet.

After entering the cafeteria, I made a beeline for the seat beside Kiku, the seat that was facing the door to the cafeteria. Kiku's left eyebrow rose, but he did not say anything. It was likely that Kiku had a guess as to why, every single day after my first day of school, I chose to sit in a seat facing the cafeteria door. Most likely he was right, but I wasn't willing to let him know about that.

It seemed as though the Paye boys had a schedule. At precisely 12:15 they all filed in – always in the same order; Ludwig, Feliciano, Lovino and then Antonio. Ludwig, Lovino and Antonio were all in grade 12, but Feliciano was in my grade – just like Francis – although I didn't have any classes with him.

Today was no exception to their schedule. At 12:15 the doors to the cafeteria opened. I glanced up from my conversation with Kiku and Peter casually, expecting to see Ludwig.

Instead, a pair of sky blue eyes stared back at me as Francis entered the cafeteria.

"He's back!" I exclaimed in shock.

"… who?" Peter asked in confusion.

"Francis," I replied, not looking away. Francis looked away though, turning to sit in between Feliciano and Antonio, his back to me.

"Oh," Kiku said uninterestedly, still eating.

"Aren't either of you curious as to why Francis missed almost a week of school?" I asked, unimpressed by their reactions.

"The Payes always disappear for a few days and then come back," Kiku replied. "One stops caring after the first few instances."

"But _why_?" I asked. Kiku and Peter shrugged.

As the bell rang a while later and Kiku and I made our way towards our history class, I kept thinking about Francis. Something about him seemed… different. I couldn't quite place it, but there was something that had changed from the first day of school, to today.

"Hello Arthur," Francis greeted me unexpectedly as I walked to my seat. I froze, staring at him. "What?" he asked innocently.

"What's with the sudden niceness?" I asked him rather rudely. He smiled a gorgeous smile that I had to pretend didn't make my heart beat faster.

"I realized my behaviour was very bad when I first met you. I apologize, he said with another dazziling smile, "Let me introduce myself properly. _Bonjour_, my name is Francis Paye – although you probably know that by now," he said amicably, giving out his right hand for me to shake. I glared at it. I wasn't ready to apologize for _my_ behaviour… but it was a nice feeling, the fact that he actually apologized.

"Arthur Kirkland," I replied, taking his hand. His hand was shockingly cold – but it made sense. The fall time was always very chilly up in Northern England where I now lived. My own hands were chilly too. Francis's smile grew.

"I know," he said. I sat down in my seat, feeling rather pleased with myself. So he _didn't_ hate me. The thought made me happier than it should.

"The secretary didn't let you switch out of history I take it then?" I asked. Francis chuckled.

"She did actually. But after talking to my parents I decided I should give the course another chance," he replied.

"The course or me?" I asked. Francis turned to look at me. Again, I felt something was off with his appearance, but I wasn't quite sure what.

"What do you mean by that?" he began to ask, but Mr. Provence had risen from his seat and silences the class to begin the lesson.

"Today you will be working in your pairs on an in-class research assignment on Britain's history. This _will_ be due at the period -" he paused to grin at the groans that the class emitted before continuing, "-so I suggest you start working on it right now. The sheets are up at the front; each pair only needs one," he said, sitting back down to read his newspaper. I stood up briskly and walked to the front of the desk to get a sheet for Francis and I. Kiku glanced at me almost worriedly but I ignored the look and continued back to my desk.

"Seems simple enough, _non_?" Francis asked me when he looked at the sheet I brought back. I looked at the questions myself. All of them were very familiar.

"I've already done this – at my old school," I said.

"_Bon_. Then we can finish quickly," Francis said, pulling out a textbook from his desk. "Question one: When did the United Kingdom change its formal title to the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland?" he read out loud. I scoffed; this was too easy.

"That question's hardly rocket science," I bragged, "It changed its formal title in 1926."

Francis frowned. "Are you sure? I believe it was in 1927," he asked. I nodded.

"I am very sure," I replied. "I know Britain's history inside and out."

"I am still going to check," he murmured opening the textbook. I glared at him. I was most definitely right – why did he have to double check?

"Honestly, Francis, I don't think -"

"Ah, it says here that the United Kingdom changed its formal title in 1927," he said, pointing at the offending line. I turned a bright red.

"I meant to say 1927," I muttered. Francis smirked, his blue eyes sparkling at me.

"_Oui_, of course you did," Francis teased, making me blush harder. His blue eyes were a beautiful sky blue. Wait. _Sky_ blue?

"Your eyes!" I exclaimed. Francis stared at me in confusion with those very eyes.

"My eyes?" he asked. I nodded.

"_That's_ what looked different! Your eyes aren't a navy blue anymore! They've gotten lighter!" I exclaimed. Francis frowned.

"I believe you are mistaken – there is no way my eyes could change colour," he replied. I shook my head.

"But they did! The first day we met they were a dark blue and today they're lighter – they're the colour of the sky outside!" I said persistently.

"Perhaps _you_ have been outside too long, _cher_," he said. I ignored the odd flip of my stomach at his casual use of the word "cher" which I knew with my limited French meant "dear".

"I have _not_. I swear on my mother's life that your eyes have changed and I know you know it too!" I said heatedly. I did not like to be told that solid, provable facts were all in my imagination. It was the pixie debacle all over again.

"Arthur, my dear, you are a bit too persistent at times. Question two: who was the first monarch of the United Kingdom of Great Britain?" Francis said, changing the topic abruptly. I sulked quietly to myself.

"Queen Anne," I muttered, looking away. A quick check in the book [further fuelling my anger with the fact he did not believe my word] told Francis that I was correct.

We completed all the questions in record time, before everyone else – just as Francis had hoped. We handed out sheet in and our "prize" was the chance to leave early. Francis sped out of the classroom as soon as Mr. Provence had ended his sentence. I decided to go home and take the time in making dinner. Because I was… not the _best_ at cooking [my mother took care of all the feminine activities], cooking dinners always took much longer than they were supposed to. My father himself was semi-proficient in cooking, but all he made was microwavable dinners. I decided to surprise him with a stew or something that was hopefully digestible so he would quit making fun of my cooking. My cooking wasn't _that_ bad. If I could eat it, why couldn't anybody else? I stalked off to my truck, thanking God that I didn't have to interact with Francis further. As cordial as he had been to me, I still was mad at him. My mother always did tell me I had a horrible temper.

But as angry as I was, I was surprisingly glad that Francis had returned.

* * *

**A/N: I spent a good half hour reading the wikipeadia page about the UK so I could find decent questions. Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed, story-alerted and favourited so far! I actually started writing this a while back - this is actually the first fanfiction I ever wrote. Then I stopped and wrote other stuff before returning back to this. So if it seems a tad bit suckish, it's because I was a fanfic noob at the time. **


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

As I drove to school a few days later, my mind was on only one thing: Francis Paye. His sudden mood-change towards me had been slightly unnerving. I had no idea how he really felt about me – or how I felt about him either. He certainly was charismatic though; Kiku and Peter had been right when they said he often preyed on people who found him attractive. Once, I had overheard a girl talking about how gorgeous she found Francis and only a couple hours later, he was flirting with her, almost as if he had heard her or read her mind.

I parked in the student parking zone, hopping out and slamming the rusty old door shut. She was old alright, but she worked fine and I loved the truck all the same. I glanced over to the row of cars opposite to me and saw Francis casually leaning against an expensive looking car while talking to Antonio. Our eyes met briefly and I looked away. I noticed a piece of paper sticking in one of the front wheels of my truck. Swearing under my breath I stooped down onto my knees to pull it out.

I'm not even quite sure to this day what exactly happened next.

I heard the screech of car tires from behind me. My natural reaction was to turn around to see the source of the sound. A car was heading straight for me, the driver staring at me in absolute horror. He seemed to not be able to control his car. I was frozen in fear, unable to move, staring as the car came closer and closer.

And then it happened. An arm wrapped itself around me, pushing me into the chest of… somebody. I watched with wide, horrified eyes as the person stuck out their left arm as the car came to hit us, possibly killing us both.

But instead of hitting us, it stopped. At his hand. There was a large dent that his hand had made. But that couldn't possibly have happened – could it? I turned to face my captor in the eye.

"How did you-?" I had begun to ask. Francis Paye took his hand off the car and pressed his index finger to my lips, making me sputter. He proceeded to push me under the car, angling me so that it seemed as though I had just barely missed being hit by the car.

"I'll explain later," he whispered and let go of me, leaping over me with ease and running quickly over to his car, almost a blur. I stared at him in shock, my mouth agape.

"Hey man are you ok?" a voice said. I looked up to see Peter standing over me. "I saw everything with my own eyes – I can't believe you weren't killed by idiot's car," he said, hand outstretched.

"Well it's because of that asshole," I replied, taking his hand and standing up. Peter frowned.

"What asshole?" he asked. I pointed towards Francis and Antonio. "Paye? No way, I never even saw him come close to you," Peter said. I frowned.

"Well maybe you need your eyes checked – Francis was there!" I said. Remember how I said I didn't like it when people denied solid provable facts? Granted, I probably wouldn't be able to prove that Francis had saved me unless he admitted to doing so, but it was still a solid fact that he saved me. Peter scowled at me.

"Fine – he was there. No need to be a jerk about it," Peter sulked. Although he was in my grade, there were many times when his behaviour was more of a 12 year old's than a 16 year old's.

A person I didn't know came running up to me. "Hey are you alright? They're calling an ambulance for you and the guy who nearly hit you," they said. An ambulance? That would mean that Albert would find out and freak out.

"No I'm fine I don't need one – honest," I protested.

"Dude just go in case – you'll get to miss school," Peter persisted.

"Are they getting one for Francis as well?" I asked. The person I didn't know and Peter exchanged a look.

"He seems to think that Francis Paye saved his life or something," Peter said to them.

"Because he did!" I half-shouted.

"If Paye needs one he can just go in the ambulance with you and Taylor," the stranger replied. Soon enough we heard the sirens of the ambulance. I sighed. Albert was not going to appreciate hearing that I got into an accident in my first week of school. Soon he'd call mother and then everything would escalate from there.

The ambulance drivers ran up to me and offered to carry me to the ambulance van via stretcher by I refused. My manly pride would not allow me to be carried out – especially when I wasn't hurt. They made their way to the car, where a shaken Taylor was stumbling out of.

"You should've accepted the offer to be carried out by stretcher," a voice said behind me. I turned around to see Francis Paye standing behind me. I glared at him.

"I'm not hurt. I don't need help," I replied.

"How can you be so sure you aren't hurt? You just got hit by a car," Francis pointed out.

"But you stopped the car with some freaking super-human strength!" I protested. Francis chuckled in surprise.

"_Moi_? Super-human strength? Did the car really hit you that hard?" he asked.

"I told him he was crazy when he said you saved him but he wouldn't listen to me!" Peter offered hopefully. Francis full out ignored him.

"Come," he said, walking away. I stared at him wondering how the hell this boy could tell me what to do before actually following him.

I was told to sit on the stretcher in the ambulance, while Francis got to sit up in front. The ambulance workers prodded me and asked me questions about how I was feeling, to which I said I was fine. They turned their attention to Taylor, who seemed to be bleeding.

At the hospital itself I was told to sit on a bed and wait for the doctor to come see me. The hospital room was bleak and plain, just a bed, a table and a small TV hanging in the corner. I decided to take this time to use the hospital phone and call my father.

"Merseyside Police this is Jim speaking," a voice said.

"Err this is Arthur Kirkland... could I speak to Albert Kirkland please?" I asked. I heard Jim chuckle on the other end.

"Your dad's out right now – want to leave a message?" he asked.

"Er it's not really important – just got into a minor accident – nobody's hurt… they just forced me to the hospital just in case," I said.

"I'll let him know as soon as possible," Jim promised. I hung up the phone and leaned back against the bed, closing my eyes for a bit. I still didn't get why I was here.

Two nurses wheeled in a bloody Taylor into the room, bandages covering his head. He grimaced as our eyes met.

"Dude I'm so sorry – I didn't even see you! I don't know what went wrong – I think I slipped on something. No hard feelings right?" he asked hopefully. I shook my head.

"None at all – I didn't get hurt – Francis Paye kind of helped me out of the way," I admitted. Taylor frowned.

"Paye? I never even saw him though," Taylor replied.

"Apparently nobody has," I muttered, closing my eyes and resting my head on the pillow. I winced slightly; maybe I _had_ gotten a bit hurt from the collision. But I didn't want Francis Paye to find that out.

"Is he sleeping?" a curious voice with a slight French accent said nearby my bed. I grit my teeth.

"Yes, now leave me alone," I grumbled, eyes still closed. _He_ was bottom on my list of people I wanted to see at that moment.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," another voice said, one that I did not recognize. My eyes flew open to see a dark haired man with an odd little piece of hair sticking up, staring down at me. I sat up quickly, turning a bright red. Behind him, smirking, stood Francis. "Hello Arthur – my son has told me a lot about you," he said. I glanced at Francis, whose expression was unreadable.

So this was Francis's father. I had honestly been expecting someone… older. Standing next to his adoptive son, Dr. Paye looked more like he was Francis's brother rather than his father. Perhaps it was because Francis had stubble lining his chin whereas Dr. Paye was clean-faced. Either way, something kept telling me that Francis was older than he appeared to be.

"How are you feeling?" Dr. Paye asked seriously, peering over his clipboard at me. I shrugged.

"I'm fine. My head just hurts a bit – but that's all," I quickly added as Francis smirked behind Dr. Paye.

"You should use some Aspirin for that but otherwise I think you're fine. You can go home for the rest of the day. You were extremely lucky that you weren't seriously hurt from the collision," Dr. Paye said.

"More like lucky that Francis managed to push the car away," I retorted. Dr. Paye's eyebrow rose, but he didn't say anything. Directing his attention to Taylor, he motioned that it was alright for me to leave.

As I stood up to leave, I gave Francis a look that clearly said "I need to talk to you". Reluctantly nodding, he followed me out of the room and into the hallway.

"How did you do it?" I asked once we got to a secluded area. Francis leaned against the wall, staring at me.

"How did I do what?" he asked.

"How did you push that car away?" I asked irritably.

"Arthur I think you need to get some rest – you obviously aren't in your right mind," Francis replied. I grit my teeth.

"I _am_ in my right mind – and I fully saw you come in between me and the car and _push_ it away!" I hissed. Francis smirked.

"Are you even sure such a thing would be possible for someone like me to do?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Maybe – I don't know," I replied. "Just answer my question."

"Easy – I wasn't there. You somehow managed to get yourself underneath the car, therefore saving yourself. I wasn't a part of it," Francis replied.

"Then why do I remember you putting your finger on my mouth and telling me you'll explain later?" I asked furiously.

"Why would I put my finger on your mouth?"

"I don't know! Maybe it's something you do to everyone!" I exclaimed.

"_Pardon_? What are you implying?" he asked me, glaring at me.

"I'm not implying anything – I'm full out saying that you're always _predating_ on everyone and it's possible that you're so used to touching everyone, that the natural thing for you to do when I tried asking you questions was to put your finger on my mouth!" I fumed. There was a silence between us, neither of us looking each other in the eye.

"Ok – I saved you. Happy? Why can't you just be grateful that I saved you?" Francis shot at me.

"But why? Why… did you push me out of the way?" I asked suddenly. I had always been under the impression that Francis secretly detested me… so why would he go out of his way and try to save my life? Francis stared at me – but it wasn't with a look of anger. It was… confusion?

"_Je ne sais pas_," he whispered before turning around and walking away from me. I stood there in shock before mentally shaking myself and finding my way to the lift so I could get to the lobby.

"Arthur!" Kiku said in surprise as I stepped into the lift. "I was just going to come and see you," he admitted. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I snapped. Kiku blinked at me in shock and I instantly felt bad. "Sorry – Paye got me in a bad mood. I really am fine."

"Francis Paye?" Kiku asked. I nodded. "Remember what Peter and I told you Arthur… be careful when you're around him…" he said quietly. I snorted in derision.

"As if I would ever be even close to being attracted to that stupid, _French_, slimy, disgusting… _frog_," I said, laughing slightly. I decided not to tell Kiku about how I had initially found Francis attractive.

"Well, just be careful. By the way, just so you do not walk into the lobby and have a cardiac arrest, the majority of the school is waiting there for you and Taylor," Kiku added. I groaned. I had a feeling that the car accident would become a big, blown-up topic at school. That _isn't_ what I wanted. "If you want, I can sneak you out through the back exit," Kiku suggested. I gave him a hopeful look.

"Would you really?" I asked. Kiku shrugged.

"Sure," he replied. As the lift opened up, I could hear many voices coming from what I supposed was the lobby. Kiku directed me in the opposite direction away from the voices, sneaking past doctors and nurses to the emergency back exit.

"Thank you," I said as we got outside and made our way to the front of the hospital. "I really didn't want to go through all those people."

"I understand," Kiku said quietly. We continued to the front of the hospital in silence. It was comforting being around Kiku – you never felt like you had to keep on talking.

"Arthur! Jim told me about the accident," Albert said as we reached the front entrance. I groaned again.

"Father I'm fine. I just have a little headache that's all," I assured him.

"I'll take you home," he offered. I glanced at Kiku, who nodded.

"You should get some sleep. I will ask Peter if he can drive your truck back home. I don't have a license but he does," Kiku said. He had a point. Although I wouldn't admit it, the headache was getting kind of bad. I handed Kiku my keys and Albert took out a pad of paper and scribbled down our address.

As we got into the car and drove away from the hospital and Kiku, Albert glanced over at me.

"I guess you should probably tell your mother that you're ok," he said sheepishly. I blanched.

"You told _mother_?" I asked, horrified.

It took ages to calm her down and reassure her that everything was ok.

Instead of starting dinner or doing my homework, I walked upstairs to the bathroom, where I took three Aspirins to stop the pain and to help me sleep.

That night was the first night I dreamt of Francis.

* * *

**A/N: Taylor's yet another OC created for this story. I don't really like having so many OCs in a fanfiction but I want all the Hetalia characters to have main roles so the less important ones go to OCs. **

**And yes, I can't remember if it was mentioned before but Roderich is Francis's father, aka Dr. Cullen. In Twilight Dr. C's a nicer, more friendlier guy but I like Roderich better being uptight and proper. Doesn't he seem like the doctor type? Like, one who plays piano on the side? Maybe it's because he wears glasses xD **

**Also - I know that in Twilight, vampires don't have facial hair but seriously, I don't like that. I think stubble makes them look more dangerous/sexy/cool so in this universe, vampires with facial hair exist - hence the reason why Francis still has his stubble. **


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

I didn't dream of marrying Francis or kissing Francis or being with Francis. I didn't even have mystical deep dreams of trying to run up to him in a dark forest as he sparkled at me and somehow kept getting out of my reach.

I dreamt I had sex with him.

Dirty, sweaty, aggressive sex.

When I awoke, I almost wasn't surprised that I was… _stiffer_ in a certain region. It was horrifying; dreaming that way of _him_ of all people. And it was slightly shocking. I always knew I never got along well with girls… but I had never really thought that it might've been because I preferred _boys_. And to think it had to be Francis that finally made me recognize that.

The month flew by fairly quickly – I spent my days not making eye-contact with a French frog, and said frog ignored me back. My slight brush with death had made me an instant celebrity – something I wasn't accustomed to and really did not like. Being the anti-social person that I am, I disliked the constant attention and the forced conversations I was roped into having with people whose names I couldn't even recall. Only Kiku seemed to understand how much I loathed it.

To make matters worse, Taylor seemed to have become my self-proclaimed best friend, following me everywhere, chattering nonsense and trying to "help" me in any way he could. I remember that at one point we had passed Ludwig and Feliciano Paye, and Ludwig had given me a sympathetic look, the only sign given that the other Paye boys knew of my existence. I spent majority of my days trying to hide from Taylor, depending on Kiku and his surprisingly vast knowledge of the many different ways to get to a place in the school.

Eventually the excitement over the car accident died down and the school began buzzing about the upcoming school dance. According to Michelle [who had become accustomed to notifying me about anything related to the dance] the student council had been planning on making the dance a "Girl's Choice" dance but due to the fact that the rest of the student body felt that was too old fashioned for a modern day dance, they left it at a regular old school dance.

I myself disliked dances. I did not want to stand in a dark crowded room full of sweaty teenagers rubbing against each other like they were animals. It may be appetizing for my fellow students but I for one did not like it.

Of course, I was probably the only person in the school who wasn't looking forward to the school dance. In fact, I received a call from Peter regarding said dance.

"Hey Arthur I was planning to ask Michelle to the Spring Dance. Are you ok with that?" he asked. I frowned at the receiver.

"Why wouldn't I be ok with that?" I asked.

"Because… I thought you might be asking her," he said. I decided not to tell him that I had recently found out that I preferred boys.

"I wasn't planning to – I don't think I'll be going," I said. I would probably skip this dance, just like I skipped all the others at my old school.

"You aren't? Why not – it'd be pretty fun," he said. He sounded like a person who didn't really care whether or not I'd be there. Peter was a tricky fellow to read. There were times when he acted as though we were the best of friends… and others where he found me a total jerk.

"No Peter, I'm not going," I reassured him. "You have fun with Michelle – you can tell me all about it the next day ok?"

The next day however, Peter was even quieter than Kiku. He had transferred into my science class a couple of weeks back and was my lab partner, yet he didn't speak a word that day. As much as I wanted to know what was the matter with his sudden silence, I knew I was the last person he would tell – especially if it were because Michelle rejected his offer.

As we walked together to my math class the idea that Michelle could've possibly rejected his offer became stronger as instead of cheerily walking away from me to talk to Michelle, Peter instead looked away and hurried to his next period class. Michelle herself didn't seem as bubbly as she usually was. She seemed to ignore me throughout the class, trailing beside me silently as we walked towards the cafeteria. Peter didn't even seem to be in the cafeteria as we entered. Because my father believed that what I had attempted to make into a sandwich did not look safe for a human to eat, I was to buy something from the school cafeteria. As I lined up to buy what looked like macaroni and cheese [and to think that my father claimed _my_ food was unsafe], I was surprised not by Michelle following me, but having Francis Paye standing behind me in the queue. I had been under the impression that the Paye boys were all suffering from anorexia or something, because at school none of them seemed to eat. This was the first time I had seen any of the Paye boys coming even close to food.

"So," Michelle said suddenly, "Peter asked me to the Spring Dance."

What would be the appropriate comeback? Try to think like a girl Arthur. "That sounds wonderful. It was very sweet of Peter to ask you to the dance," I said. It didn't really sound right, but I suppose it was the right thing to say as Michelle nodded in agreement.

"It _was_ very sweet of him… but I told him I'd have to think about it," she said, not making eye-contact with me. I had a revelation and groaned inwardly. If this whole situation was because of me I would slam my face into a wall.

"Why would you do that?" I tried to make my voice as disapproving and shocked as I could. Michelle blushed.

"I was kinda hoping – I mean wondering – if you would… you know… if you would be asking me to the dance," she said quietly. I refrained myself from walking over to a nearby wall and repeatedly slamming my face into it. I noticed however, Francis seemed to tilt his head towards us, while appearing to be not paying attention to us.

"Michelle I really think you should go with Peter to the dance," I said carefully, hoping I wasn't offending Michelle and breaking one of those unspoken rules girls had created for guys like me.

"Why – did you ask anyone to the dance?" she asked. I could tell she was hard at thought, going through every girl she knew I knew that I could possibly ask. "Was it Kristy or Angelica or -"

"No," I said hastily, interrupting her tirade of names. "I'm not going to the dance at all."

Michelle's mouth opened into a perfect little 'O' as she gaped at me. "Why not?" she demanded.

I preferred not to rant about how much I loathed being stuck in a dark room with sweaty teenagers; I decided to think up a quick excuse as to why I couldn't go to the dance.

"Err I'm going to Liverpool that day so I can't go," I said quickly. It was actually a good idea – I needed to get out of this town for a while, be by myself – even for just a few hours.

"Couldn't you just go some other day?" she demanded.

"No I can't – I uh… I already asked my dad permission and he's pretty strict and probably won't let me go some other day so no…" I lied quickly. "So you know, you should probably go tell Peter – he's not going to keep on waiting," I said.

"Good point," she said, biting her lip dejectedly. She turned and walked away from the line without a backwards glance. I let out a sigh of relief. It hadn't been as disastrous as I thought it might've been. As she walked towards our table I turned to glance at Kiku who was giving me an inquiring look from the table but was distracted by the direct gaze from Francis.

His navy blue eyes had a certain curious yet frustrated intensity as my green eyes locked with his. Instead of looking away like a normal person would once caught by the person they were staring at, Francis continued to stare at me and I was unable to look away. The intensity almost scared me and I finally managed to break the gaze and turned away, almost feeling his gaze at my back. I felt pathetic – the force of his stare had made me feel all dazed, like I couldn't breathe. I was acting like some stupid heroine in a romance movie. It was pathetic.

As the line slowly progressed forward – for some reason many people liked the macaroni and cheese – I tried not to address the fact that Francis Paye was still behind me and most possibly still staring at my back.

"Arthur?" his voice said behind me. I grit my teeth. His voice was so smooth, so velvety, so… _musical_. I loathed how I enjoyed him saying my name, and how even though we hadn't spoken in a while, his voice still seemed so familiar to me, as though I had heard it only a few seconds ago.

I pretended like I was lost in my thoughts, like I hadn't heard Francis's voice.

"Arthur?" he said again, softer… like a purr. I turned around slowly.

"Yes?" I asked in a standoffish tone. Francis blinked his navy blue eyes at me.

"What?" he asked innocently. God damn I hated how much I loved listening to him talk.

"So you're going to pay attention to me? You're going to actually talk to me this time?" I shot at him.

His perfectly shaped lips [oh God I've taken to thinking about him in excruciating detail – this can't be happening!] twitched as he fought the urge to smile. "Actually…_ no_. Not really," he admitted. I glared at him, forcing myself to keep the anger in my eyes and not get distracted by his looks and turn the glare into a full-out stare.

"Then what is it that you want?" I demanded, closing my eyes in annoyance. It seemed like it would be easier for me if I talked to him with my eyes closed.

"I just wanted to apologize… for my behaviour. I know my behaviour was not… _good_… but really Arthur… it's better this way," he said quietly. I opened my eyes again and stared at him.

"I have no idea what the hell you mean," I said bluntly.

"It's better if… if we weren't friends," he said to me. Oh really? "Trust me," he added. It wasn't as though this was the first time I had heard _that_. I glared at him.

"Pity your revelation didn't come earlier," I shot at him. "You could've saved yourself a lot of regret you know."

"… Regret?" I had caught him off guard. He stared at me in confusion, not sure of what I was implying.

"For not letting stupid Taylor's stupid car kill me."

His eyes widened. His mouth even fell open slightly as he stared at me in absolute surprise. "Are you actually saying that you think that this whole time I was ignoring you because I wish I didn't save you and that you _died_?" I could almost hear a hint of anger in his voice at the last word.

"I'm not saying that I thought it – I _know_ it," I snapped back at him.

His nostrils flared as he glared at me. "You don't even know _anything_," he spat at me. He was definitely angry. I glared at him back before turning around to face the front of the line and moving up a few places in the queue. I could hear him storm off from the line. I got my food and stormed off to my table with Kiku where I refused to talk to anyone and refused to even so much as turn my head in the direction _he_ was sitting in.

As I reached my history class the next period I was almost relieved to see that _he_ wasn't there. He must've skipped. But I didn't care. I refused to feel any emotion besides anger about that stupid…_ frog_.

I stomped outside to my truck at the end of school, fumbling for my keys in my pocket and dropping them. Swearing, I stooped down to pick them up. As I did so, I heard someone chuckle. I looked up and saw Francis walking by, staring straight ahead, his lips twitching as he tried not to smile. I stood up quickly and opened my door, slamming it shut and turning on my truck. The temptation to run him over was great but he had already reached his car by then.

I reversed from the aisle and drove towards the exit. Francis, in his Ferrari Enzo, smoothly cut in. He stopped. I stared at him. What the bloody hell was he doing? He seemed to be waiting for his brothers to join him. Ludwig, Feliciano, Lovino and Antonio were all near the building, quite far from where Francis had stopped his car. I let out an annoyed sigh. From my rear-view mirror I could see cars lining up behind me. I could see Taylor's recently acquired second-hand Honda Civic right behind me. I watched as he got out, door left wide open, engine still running. He seemed to walk up to my car. Dammit. He waited as I rolled down my window.

"What do you want?" I asked. If Taylor seemed offended by my tone, he didn't comment on it.

"Err I just wanted to know if you uh… if you wanted to go to the Spring Dance with me," he said quietly. I blinked at him.

"You're _gay_?" I asked. And he had a crush on _me_? Of all people? First Michelle, now _Taylor_? Was everyone here _insane_?

Taylor blushed. "Y-yea. And… I was wondering maybe if you wanted to go – as friends if you want," Taylor said hopefully. Taylor seemed to be the only person who realized I was gay.

"Sorry but I'm going out of town," I said, with a bit of sympathy.

"Yea Michelle told me."

"You knew and yet you asked me?"

"I was kinda hoping you were letting Michelle off gently."

"No sorry Taylor but I'm actually going out – I'm going to Liverpool," I said irritably now. Cars were honking behind us and Taylor seemed very persistent.

"Oh ok. Prom then," he said, turning and walking back to his car. I stared back at him in horror. _Prom_? With _him_?

As I turned back to the front, I saw that all the other Paye boys had slid into the car… and that Francis was laughing, his navy blue eyes sparkling. He was glancing at me through his rear-view mirror as he laughed. It was almost as if he had somehow heard the conversation between me and Taylor and was laughing at my misfortune. I stomped my foot on the gas pedal, intending to smash into the back of his stupid expensive car but he already drove off. I growled and continued my way home.

I decided to stop by at a fast food restaurant and getting something for Albert and I to eat – I wasn't in the mood for cooking anymore. As I drove into the drive-thru and waited for my order, I fumed to myself about everything that had happened that day. Francis's words still lingered in my mind.

_It's better if… if we weren't friends_… what the hell was that supposed to mean? It wasn't like we were ever friends… we never entirely got along with each other. But at the same time, it offended me. It kind of… hurt. Perhaps he somehow _knew_ how horribly, unwontedly, irritatingly _attracted_ I was to him. Kiku and Peter _did_ say that he had a weird tendency to know who was attracted to him. Perhaps I wasn't attractive enough… or interesting enough for him to pursue me. The thought stung, because although I refused to admit it, Francis was both attractive _and_ interesting.

But fine. If he was going to go and say we shouldn't be friends and ignore me, then I would do the same. I would ignore him for the rest of this year and the next. And then the moment high school was over I'd try my hardest to get accepted in a university far away from St Helens – possibly in another country. Somewhere nice and sunny and completely unlike here.

At home, I busied myself with housework, realizing that after living alone without anyone to clean after him, Albert had just left the house messy and dusty without doing anything about it. Feeling like a housewife, I dusted the house and cleaned the living room. I almost didn't notice Albert enter.

"You're cleaning," he stated. I turned around and turned red.

"The messiness was… getting on my nerves," I admitted. "I bought MacDonald's for dinner."

Albert chuckled. "Finally got sick and tired of eating your own 'food'?" he teased. I glared at him.

"I just wasn't in the mood for cooking," I replied, walking towards the kitchen. Albert chuckled again, following me.

"So… school dance coming up soon," Albert said quietly as I bit into my Big Mac. Trust my father to know about the school dance. St Helens was so _small_. "You ask anyone yet?" he asked.

"Err… I was asked by a few people but… I kinda want to go to Liverpool that day – you know, just to relax for a bit, maybe buy a few books… a present for mother since her birthday's coming up…" I said hopefully. I had saved up quite a lot of money and had even extra since I didn't have to buy myself a car, despite the fact my truck used up a lot of money for gas.

"Would your truck be able to last the whole drive?" Albert asked.

"Well I'd have to make a few stops of course… but I'll be fine – I promise!" I said. "Father I'm 17 – I should be able to take a car trip to a nearby town by myself."

"Maybe I should come with you," he suggested. My face clearly showed the horror I felt at the prospect at my father tagging along with me. "But I won't. You're almost a man – it's about time I start treating you like one," he said. I grinned.

"Thank you father," I said.

The next day, I deliberately made sure to park my truck in the parking spot as far away from a certain flashy expensive red Ferrari as possible. I kept my mother's plea for keeping my temper in check in mind and knew that parking too close to _his_ car would make the temptation of ruining his car too great to ignore.

As I got out of my truck and pulled my keys out, I fumbled with them and they went falling down. Rolling my eyes I made a move to catch them before they hit the ground when a pale white hand grabbed them quickly right before they hit ground. I glared at the person who had retrieved them.

"How did you get here so fast?" I asked irritably as Francis beamed at me, tossing the keys to me.

"What do you mean? I was nearby you the entire time."

"No, you weren't."

"It's not my fault that you are exceptionally unobservant."

I scowled at him, trying not to notice that his blue eyes had lightened once again to a pretty [did I just say it was _pretty_?] sky blue.

"What was with the traffic jam yesterday?" I demanded, trying not to directly look at him. I refused to notice how attractive he was. I absolutely refused to. "And I thought you were going to pretend like I don't exist and stuff – what happened to that?" I added.

"I heard Taylor talking to Michelle about how he planned on asking you to the dance. I thought I'd help him out a little and give him an opportunity," Francis said, beaming a dazzling smile at me.

"You bastard," I said gasping. I _really_ wanted to rip his stupid beaming head off his body. Francis seemed to find my anger funny.

"And besides, I never said I was going to pretend like you didn't exist."

"Are you trying to _irritate_ me to death or something? Is this your way of torturing me to death, since Taylor's fucking car didn't successfully accomplish that?" I fumed at him. Francis's smile faded and he glared back at me.

"You're stupidly jumping to conclusions Arthur," he said quietly, his light blue eyes glinting at me. I wanted to rip his head off even more but remembering my promise to my mother about controlling my temper I didn't do anything. I settled on taking a deep breath and stalked away. "Wait!" he called out.

I continued to walk away. I did not want to listen to him anymore. I wanted to get inside the school and away from him.

"_Je suis désol__é_ – I'm sorry. That wasn't the nicest thing for me to say. I apologize," Francis said, walking beside me. I continued to ignore him, "It was true of course… but I shouldn't have said it like that."

"Fuck off."

"I was going to ask you something you know but you kind of got us sidetracked from what I was going to say."

"Are you bipolar? Do you have multiple personalities? Are you insane – why the hell do you keep going from annoying, pissed off Francis to annoying happy Francis?"

"Stop doing that."

"What do you want?"

"I'm guessing you've heard about the Spring Dance happening a week from Saturday-"

"Are you fucking _mocking_ me?"

"Could you let me finish my sentence _s'il vous plait_?"

"Fine."

"I heard you say you were going to Liverpool and I was wondering whether or not you would like a ride there."

"… With who?"

"_Moi, bien s__û__r_ – me, of course," Francis said slowly, as though I were mentally deficient and had no basic understanding of French.

I stared at him. "Why the hell would you want to?" I demanded.

"Liverpool is quite far from St Helens and I honestly do not think your truck will make the trip."

"Whether or not my truck will make the trip is none of your business."

"I believe that wasting a resource that is so valuable and is soon to be extinct in a few years is everyone's business."

"Well my truck will be able to make the trip so you can just go fuck yourself," I said, walking into the school and away from him.

"As someone who knows cars very well I don't think that'll be the case," Francis said, quickening his pace to keep up with me. I stopped at my locker, turned around and faced him.

"I honestly don't fucking get you sometimes. I thought you said we weren't going to be friends and that you didn't _want_ to be my friend," I said rudely.

"_Non_… I said it would be better for you if we weren't friends – and I never said I didn't want to be your friend," Francis said. I rolled my eyes.

"Thank you kindly for clearing that up," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes again.

"It would be wiser for me to stay away from you," Francis murmured suddenly, leaning into too close to me. My stupid heart began to beat faster as Francis's cold body pressed lightly against mine. I tried to move away but my locker was in the way. Francis had effectively pinned me to a locker. "But I don't want to stay away from you any longer," he whispered, his sky blue eyes glittering at me, making me lose my breath.

My knees were ready to buckle. Francis was too close for comfort and yet I oddly didn't mind. My mind was in a daze – I couldn't think straight anymore. I felt my cheeks burning and Francis leaned in even closer.

"Arthur," he purred my name, "will you let me take you to Liverpool?"

I hadn't gained my power of speech – much less my breath, so I just nodded in response. Francis grinned, pressing his body against mine; we were so close that our noses were almost touching.

His smile faded as he whispered, "It'd really be much safer for you to avoid me," his minty breath washed over my face, "I'll see you in history."

And with that, he turned around and walked away from me. I slid down to the floor, still not able to process what had just happened.

* * *

**A/N: Not gonna lie, I'm mad jealous of Arthur right now. I mean what? xD **

**Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing! Me and my editor thank you kindly :D**


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

Science class was a faint memory to me. I barely paid attention as Peter excitedly told me about how Michelle had called him yesterday and said yes to going to the dance with him. I half-heartedly responded, helping him suggest girls for Kiku to ask and subtly adding that maybe Peter and Michelle could find a guy for Taylor to go with – so he could forget all about me.

I barely paid attention in math. It took me the entire period to realize that Michelle had not spoken to me the entire time, which led me to believe that perhaps I was not entirely in the clear with her just yet but as we walked towards the cafeteria for lunch she started talking excitedly about how now that the everlasting rain St Helens had been experiencing had finally begun to clear up, the plans for the upcoming beach trip were now up and running. I nodded absently, not even properly registering Peter's arrival. My thoughts were all about my encounter with Francis. It all seemed too good to be true. The thought of someone like Francis ever being attracted to a guy like me seemed less than likely. Especially since I had clearly shown him that I disliked him intensely.

As we entered the cafeteria I nervously glanced at the Paye table – I wanted to see if Francis would look at me, acknowledge me, prove to me that what had occurred between us earlier hadn't been a stupid dream of mine. But… as I glanced at the Paye table, there were only four of them there. No Francis. I tried not to feel disappointment as I sat down with my friends, not really paying attention to Peter attempting to get Kiku to ask one of the girls to the Spring Dance.

"Hey Francis Paye is staring at you again. Wonder why he's sitting all by himself – it's not like him to sit without his brothers," Peter said. I looked up to see Peter looking in a different direction from the Paye table. I followed his gaze. Peter was right; Francis _was_ looking at our table… and he was sitting at a small table by himself. He smiled, and then made a beckoning motion. Peter and I stared at each other.

"Is he talking to _you_?" he asked rather rudely. Feeling slightly insulted, I shrugged.

"Probably wants history homework or something," I said quietly, getting up, taking my lunch with me to Francis.

"Would you like to sit with me?" he asked, smiling at me. I shrugged, sitting down.

I stared down at my food as I ate. A silence lingered and I had the distinct feeling Francis was watching me eat.

"_Mon dieu_ how do you manage to eat that without dying?" Francis said suddenly. I looked up.

"What do you mean?" I asked, feeling offended.

"Your food… it looks like – like _road kill_," Francis said in horror. I glared at him.

"It does _not_. And I rather like it so you can go fuck yourself if you disagree," I said in a finite tone. "But I suppose since it's better than what I used to be made fun of, I'll let you off easy."

"Oh?" Francis said, raising an eyebrow. "What did you used to be made fun of?"

I reddened slightly. "My eyebrows," I muttered. My eyebrows were always very prominent. Francis chuckled. I glared at him and he stopped. "The kids at my old school used call me "Fuzzy Eyebrows" or something like that." I suppose the reason nobody made fun of my eyebrows was because Peter had eyebrows equally prominent. I was kind of relieved I wasn't the only person with such large eyebrows – it defied my former theory that it was a genetic mutation.

"Why did you move in the first place?" Francis asked.

"Err… because my mother got remarried."

"But why would that make you move here? Do you not like your stepfather?"

"No Calvin's nice enough… but he and my mother wanted to move to America for his job – he's an amateur actor. Of course, I hate America and did not want to move, so I decided to move to this hell hole."

"You seem to suggest that you hate it here."

"I do."

"Then why choose to live here?"

"Because… there's no way my mother would've let me live alone and I didn't want to go live with them in New York… so I thought I'd live with my dad, keep him company."

"Despite the fact you hate it here?"

"Yes."

"That's very self-sacrificial of you."

I shrugged. It was then that I realized that at that moment, we managed to have a very cordial conversation.

"So are we friends now?" I asked curiously.

"Friends?" Francis said quietly, musing to himself.

"Or not," I muttered to myself.

"Yes. We're friends. Although, I'll warn you now, I won't be a very good friend," he said darkly. I rolled my eyes.

"You've said that a lot. Although, I don't get what you mean about 'not being a very good friend'. Would you talk about me behind my back? Would you send me annoying chain mails? Would you constantly ask to copy my homework? Those are all signs of bad friends."

Francis rolled his eyes. "You are so naive sometimes Arthur," he said. "And I say that a lot because you still haven't gotten it into your head. If you're smart, you would avoid me."

"So you're saying that if I was smart, we wouldn't be friends?"

"Yes."

"I guess I'm an idiot then." I couldn't believe I had just said that. Francis smiled slightly.

"I guess so," he agreed. I looked down at my hands, not sure what to say now. "What are you thinking?" he demanded suddenly.

I stared at him. "Why do you care?" I said harshly.

"I'm sorry, I was just wondering –"

"No, I'm sorry. I'm still not totally used to this 'having friends' thing. I was just wondering what the hell you might be – someone as irritatingly annoying as you definitely cannot be human."

Francis rolled his eyes. "What are your theories?"

Peter Parker? Robin Hood? Brad Pitt – Harry _Potter_? "Not saying – too stupid."

"This is really frustrating on my part you know."

"Almost as frustrating as being spoken to in cryptic tones by a bipolar, irritating _frog_ with multiple personalities who somehow can push a complete car off me and while he promised to explain what happened, _never did._"

"If you bottle your temper in like that, you'll explode."

"Shut up."

"Also – did you call me a frog?"

"So what of it?"

"_Pourquoi?_ Why a frog?"

"Because you can be as slimy and disgusting as one."

"I disgust you?"

"Intensely."

"Almost as much as you frustrate me?"

"Why are you implying, you asshole?"

"I wasn't implying anything. I was full out saying you frustrate me sometimes."

We glared at each other. Francis smirked suddenly, looking behind me. "I think your boyfriend's under the impression we're in an argument and is wondering whether or not he should intervene."

"I have no boyfriend. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Taylor. He seems to think that he needs to come and save you from me. He also thinks you have pretty eyes."

"You're probably wrong about that."

"I'm not. I can read people very well."

"I'm sure you can."

"I can. Except for you. You seem to be the only exception." Francis stared at me thoughtfully. The last time he intently stared at me I nearly lost my breath and not wanting this to happen, I stared at my hands again.

"Aren't you hungry?" I asked. Francis blinked.

"No. Your…'food' lost my appetite."

I decided to ignore that attack on my cooking skills. "I've never seen you eat though."

"Perhaps it's because your food always makes me lose my appetite." I decided to ignore that as well.

"Hey Francis could you do me a favour?" I asked suddenly.

"Depends… what is it?"

"The next time you decide to turn into your alter ego – the pissed off annoying Francis – care to tell me first? So I can prepare to ignore you?" I asked.

Francis laughed. "_Oui_, I will," he promised. "Now, my turn."

"What are you talking about?"

"Since I promised you something you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

"One of your theories."

"No way."

"_Pourquoi?_ Why not?"

"Like I said, they're stupid."

"I won't laugh."

"Like hell you won't."

Francis leaned in closer. Due to the small table we were sitting in, his face was closer to me than before. Our knees touched and I felt him lay a hand on my right knee. I stared at him in slight horror.

"Please?" he whispered seductively, moving his hand up my knee. My knee jerked out of his reach in reflex and I shuddered.

"Bitten by something?" I blurted out. Francis blinked at me.

"Depends what you mean by bitten."

"Spiders?"

"No."

"Wolves?"

"_Non_."

"Lived near radioactive rays as a baby?"

"Not even close."

"Oh."

"Just to let you know, kryptonite isn't my weakness either."

"I never said that."

"I knew you were thinking it."

"I thought I was hard to read."

"You are… but that was kind of obvious." Francis chuckled. I glared at him.

"So much for promising not to laugh."

"I never promised I wouldn't laugh."

"But you said you wouldn't."

Francis's mouth twitched as he regained his composure.

"I'll figure out what you are eventually. I'm good at that sort of thing – I believe and know in all sorts of creatures."

"I wish you wouldn't," Francis said suddenly. I stared at him.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because what if you found out… that I'm not the superhero? What if you found out that I'm the bad guy?" he said smiling, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. I tried not to feel creeped out.

"That was probably the creepiest fucking thing I've ever heard you say."

"You've got quite a temper don't you?" Francis teased, his humour returning. "It's rather cute." I flushed angrily.

"I'm not cute," I muttered. Francis seemed to find that amusing. Still… there was something from what Francis said prior, something that nagged at my mind. "Are you dangerous?" I asked. Francis stared at me, an unrecognizable emotion in his eyes. "But… you're not bad are you?" I whispered. "You can't be bad."

"_Non_. You are wrong," Francis whispered back, his fingers touching mine. My arm twitched but I didn't move my hand away. Francis stared intently at my hands, playing with my fingertips gently.

The silence lingered between us until I realized that the cafeteria was practically empty. "We're going to be late for history class," I said standing up. I didn't want to take my hand out of Francis's. Francis looked up at me, still sitting.

"I'm skipping this class," he murmured.

"Why are you skipping?"

"Because sometimes it's healthy to."

"You're a horrible influence."

"I told you I wasn't a good friend," Francis said, without humour. I didn't reply and turned away to leave the cafeteria.

Once in my history class, I slipped into my seat unnoticed by Mr Provence. Kiku turned in his seat to give me a worried look. I smiled at him and turned to the front as Mr Provence stood up to begin his lesson.

"Today we will be watching a movie on World War 2," he announced. "I'm afraid this movie is _very_ graphic and full of violent events so I'm hoping all of you will be able to watch it without being squeamish."

A violently graphic movie? I gulped. Ever since I was a child, I've never been very fond of violent horror movies. After watching even a few minutes – even just a simple beheading – I would throw up or faint. It was a weak thing for me to do, another reason why I was made fun of in my old school but I just couldn't take it.

"Err I think I've seen this movie sir," I said, raising my hand up. The class turned to stare at me. Mr Provence shrugged.

"Well then I expect you already should know everything that will happen," he said. Dang. I nodded weakly.

I tried to ignore the queasy feeling that had already begun in my stomach as the lights were shut and the curtains were closed. As the opening credits started to play I rested my head on my arms and tried to breathe evenly. I acting absolutely absurd – nothing bad had happened and yet here I was already close to hyperventilating!

BOOM. I had spoken too soon. I winced as I watched the bomb explode on the TV screen, causing body parts to fly in random directions. I could feel bile rising up my throat.

"Pssst. Arthur," a voice whispered. I looked to my side to Taylor sitting in the desk next to mine in the next aisle. I grunted in response. "Are you ok?"

"Who's talking?" Mr Provence called out.

"I am sir," Taylor said, raising his hand up. "I don't think Arthur is ok."

"Really? Arthur, is this true?" Mr Provence said, walking to the TV and pausing the movie. I looked up at the screen and saw a man's head just hanging on by a few slivers of skin. I looked away.

"I don't feel very good," I murmured.

"I'll take him to the office if you want," Taylor offered.

"Thank you Taylor," Mr Provence said, nodding. I stood up weakly and followed Taylor outside.

"Hey Artie do you need help?" Taylor said, putting his arm around my waist.

"Don't call me that!" I hissed, moving away. Taylor shrugged and continued walking. I glared at his back.

"I hope I don't miss much in the movie," Taylor was saying as we headed towards the office. "Some kid who's in the first period history class was going on about how at one point they show the Jews dying in the gas chamber things and how their _flesh burns right off their face_ and it sounds all cool and - Arthur are you ok? You look green," he said, turning around. All I could see were those people's flesh burning off their skeletons as they screamed in agony. "Hey Arthur!" Taylor exclaimed in surprise as I buckled to the ground.

"What's wrong with him?" a voice rang out sharply a few feet from us. I looked up wearily as Francis walked up to us. The sudden image of _his_ flesh burning off his body filled my mind and I closed my eyes in disgust

"I think he fainted," Taylor said.

"You think? _Mon dieu _sometimes you are extremely thick-headed," Francis said rolling his eyes. "I'll take him to the office."

"No its ok I'll take him."

"_Non_, I'll take him." I felt two cold arms drag me upwards. My feet left ground and my eyes flew open.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I demanded as Francis carried me away from an awestruck Taylor.

"I'm carrying you to the office – what does it look like I'm doing?" he said.

"Put me down!"

"Just so you would fall?"

"I can carry myself – I'm not some stupid damsel in distress. I'm a man."

"And yet you fainted?"

"Near fainted."

"_Quoi_? I didn't quite hear you."

"I said _near_ fainted."

"Oh. Ha ha."

"What's so funny?"

"You amuse me sometimes."

I looked up at him. "How so?"

"You are the most frustrating and the rudest boy I've ever met. It's cute."

"You've said that before. Do you _actually_ find me cute?"

"_Oui_. _Tr__è__s mignon_."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Speaking in French."

"_Pourquoi_? Don't you like French?"

"No. It sounds too slimy. It sounds like you're mocking me or something."

"You are such a stereotypical Englishman. It's like you're the personification of England itself."

"Is that meant to be an insult? Because if it is then you are the stupid slimy personification of France."

"Ah, _merci_. It is a compliment to me to be considered as romantic as the nation I hail from."

"I n-never meant it like-"

"Ah but you were thinking it."

"I thought you said you could never tell what I was thinking!"

"So you admit you think that I am romantic?"

"I never said that!"

"Oh but _Angleterre_ you were implying it."

"What?"

"What?"

"What did you just call me?"

"_Angleterre?_ It means 'England'."

"Why would you call me England?"

"Because like I said, you are like the personification of the country England."

"It sounds like you're mocking me," I accused as Francis set me down in front of the office door. Francis beamed at me.

"Ah, but I say it with love, _cheri_." He said. I flushed at the use of the feminine form.

"Are you implying I'm a girl by that?" I demanded.

"What do you mean?"

"You called me 'cheri' – that's the feminine conjugation."

Francis's eyes twinkled. "You claim you hate French yet you know the language," he said.

"Barely."

Francis pushed open the office door, whispering, "act sick."

"Why?" I asked him, but he shook his head at me and prodded me into the office.

"Yes – can I help you?" the secretary said, looking up. Francis beamed at her.

"Yes – Arthur doesn't feel well. He fainted in the hallways. Would he be allowed to leave school early?" Francis asked charmingly. The secretary blinked a few times. She seemed to have been charmed… _dazzled_.

"Only if he needs to…" she said falteringly. Francis glanced at me and I nodded.

"I – er – I feel really ill," I stammered. I could see Francis rolling his eyes in my peripheral vision. Thankfully, the secretary bought our ruse.

"Ok then," she said. "I'll mark you down."

"Thank you ma'am," I said turning away.

"_Oui. Merci beaucoup,_" Francis added as he followed me out. "You are a horrible actor," he said as the office door closed behind us.

"I wasn't given much to work with," I said haughtily as we made our way to the parking lot. Francis laughed.

"Where are you going?" Francis said, as I began to walk away from him towards my truck.

"My truck. Where do you think I'm going?" I replied.

"_Non_. You just fainted – you'll be a hazard to anyone on the road if you are driving while still light-headed," Francis said, dragging me towards his car.

"I'm fine Francis; quit treating me like a girl!"

"Stop acting like one."

"Excuse me? You should talk, from the back _you're_ the one that looks like a girl."

"Yet you are the one who fainted."

"I didn't faint!"

"Oh sorry. _Near_-fainted." Francis held the passenger door of his Ferrari Enzo open for me. I glared at him, pushed him away and sat down. Francis closed the door, chuckling and walked to the driver's seat, turning on the car. As the engine revved I had a bad feeling about having Francis take me home. I didn't really like being in fast moving vehicles and Francis's Enzo looked like it had just come off the Indy 500.

_In the town where I was born lived a man who sailed to sea and he told us of his life in the land of submarines…_

"You listen to the Beatles?" I asked as _Yellow Submarine_ began to play. Francis nodded.

"_Oui._ Do you?" he asked. I nodded.

"I love rock! I just… I just never thought you would too."

"I like all sorts of music."

"As do I. Except country… I absolutely loathe it. And pop. And that rap stuff – it's not even music."

"So basically all you like is classical, jazz, rock and indie?"

"Pretty much."

"Makes sense. I can't imagine you listening to Miley Cyrus… or anything really American actually."

"That's good." I couldn't think of anything else to say other than that so the rest of our car trip to my house remained in silence. As Francis neared my little townhouse I said suddenly, "Are you going to the beach trip?"

"… Beach trip? Arthur, St Helens is a landlocked city."

"According to Michelle we're going to the nearby city – its right beside the coast apparently."

"_Quand_?"

"What?"

"When."

"Oh… in a few days."

"Then no."

"Why not?"

"I'm busy."

"Busy with what?"

"Why so curious all of a sudden?"

"Just wondering… it's supposed to be really sunny that day too… I can't imagine why anyone would turn down the offer to be in the sun."

"What if I'm secretly albino?"

"I doubt it."

"Fine. Antonio and I really wanted to go hiking in 'Bear Woods' for some time and we decided to go leave this evening and stay there for a couple of days."

"… Bear woods?"

"It's not really the actual name. People just call it that…"

"Because of the bears?"

"Just a superstition." Francis said airily as he pulled up on my driveway. "_Voila_, _ton maison_," Francis said dramatically as if he were some ringmaster in a circus.

"Thanks," I grumbled as I got out of the car. "But wait my truck is still at -"

"Give me your keys – I'll get Feliciano to drive it back to your house." Nodding, I threw my keys at him, which he caught with abnormal speed.

"Hopefully my dad doesn't question why some boy is driving my truck home even though I'm already at home," I said as I walked to the door. Francis followed me. "Then I'd have to tell him about _nearly_ fainting and of _course_ he'd tell mother who would then blow a gasket."

"Is your mother very protective of you?" Francis asked as I tried to get my house key out of my pocket.

"Of course. I've been taking care of her since I could talk. A lot of people think I'm her father because I'm so much more mature than she is… but she's very protective of me. She'll go batshit crazy over anything."

"Would she approve of you dating someone like me?" Francis said darkly, leaning in towards me as I unlocked my door. I blushed, looking away.

"W-why the fuck would I date a guy? I'm not-" I stammered by Francis shushed me.

"Just answer the question," he murmured. I looked up at him and saw a shadow passing through his sky blue eyes.

"What did you mean 'someone like me'?" I said, stalling for time as I thought of an eloquent yet not embarrassing answer.

"Someone scary… _dangereux_," he whispered, leaning in even closer. I took a step back.

"Well I don't find you scary _or_ dangerous," I said a bit too loudly, trying to bring the atmosphere back to the casual one that I was comfortable in.

"That's not very smart of you," he said, still in his dark phase.

"I thought we established that I'm not very smart," I replied. Francis smiled slightly.

"Would that mean that your mother would approve of dating me?" he asked. I blushed harder. He laughed, back in his happy mood. "I'll see you next week," he murmured, walking away. I pushed open the door and went into my house as Francis drove away.

For some reason, I_ really_ wanted next week to come soon.

* * *

**A/N: And so, the beach trip comes closer and we're not too far away from finding out who 'Jacob' is in this story :D **


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

I sat in my room waiting impatiently for my truck to return. It was almost time for my father to arrive and I didn't want my truck to still be absent.

It was pouring rain outside – not a very good sign for the Beach Trip. As I anxiously glanced out the window hoping to see my truck rolling up the driveway, I realized my truck had already got there. I hadn't even heard the engine's roar. It was like it just appeared there… like magic.

The next few days were horror. I seemed to have gone from horrible victim of car accident to the dude who nearly fainted after seeing a few seconds of some history movie. Peter seemed particularly amused by that story and always brought it up. Kiku tried to defend me, that it hadn't been _that_ bad, but nobody ever listened.

After finding out Francis wasn't going to the Beach Trip, my desire to be somewhere sunny and bright greatly diminished. I was downright regretting ever agreeing to go. But I couldn't back down; the reason Kiku was going was all because of me.

"So Arthur – why did Francis Paye want yesterday?" Peter had said the day after mine and Francis's first semi-cordial conversation.

"I'm not exactly sure – fucking never gets to the point," I said quickly, with quite some truth in my words.

"Really? You looked pretty mad," Peter replied.

"I did?" I said, trying to keep my face neutral.

"You know it's weird… I think that was like the first time I've seen him sit with someone else other than his brothers at lunch. It was pretty weird."

"Yea. Weird," I agreed. I think I irritated Peter; he obviously had been hoping to find out more so he could convey the information to the gossip-loving Michelle.

What I found had been the worst part of Friday, the day before the Beach Trip, was that although Francis hadn't been at school for the past three days, I still thought that _maybe_ Francis would come home early and decide to come along too. His appearance would've made the Beach Trip more interesting at least.

The table I usually sat at was buzzing in excitement for the next day. The table's occupants seemed to have grown now, before it had just been Kiku, Peter, Michelle and a boy named Laurent [who was very good friends with Peter] and I but now it had grown to more of Peter's friends and more of Michelle's friends. I never talked to them though; my conversations were with Peter and Kiku only. I was content with that though – more and more I intercepted death glares from Laurent, which I never understood until after lunch.

I had been walking with Michelle, who was going on about how she trusted the weatherman when he promised sunny skies for the next day, when I heard Laurent mention my name while talking to Peter.

It was evident he never saw me – he was so full of himself he was probably stuck in his own little bubble – when he said, "Why the fuck doesn't_ Arthur_" – he said my name with derision – "just sit with those Paye freaks forever. Nobody likes him – he's so _weird_."

If Kiku hadn't come to join me I would've punched that little bastard out. Remembering my mother's promise I held my temper but cursed him for all eternity in my mind. I followed Kiku past the two of them towards our history class, not wanting to hear anymore.

That night at dinner, Albert seemed really keen on me going out on the Beach Trip. I think he was afraid I'd turn into a semi-hermit like him and wanted me to go out and meet more girls. Of course, having lived in St Helens for so long, and because he was the chief of police, he knew every kid who was going and probably knew their parents and grandparents too. Except the Payes of course – they had only moved to St Helens a few years back.

"Hey… dad… do you know that forest that people call Bear Woods?" I asked casually. My father seemed surprised that I had called him 'dad'. It was pleasantly surprised though, as if it meant that I was getting used to living with my father.

"Yea – why?"

"Oh just overheard some kids talking about camping there or something," I said casually. Albert looked confused.

"It's not a very good place for camping… there _is_ a reason why they call it 'Bear Woods' Arthur," he said.

"So it's not a superstition?" I asked. Albert shook his head. "I guess they were joking about that then…" I murmured, going back to eating.

Although I had really wanted to sleep in, sun peeked in through my curtains and forced me up earlier than I had planned. So Michelle and the weatherman _were_ right after all.

Michelle's parents owned a sporting goods store yet I had never felt the need to go there seeing as I wasn't really a sportive person. In the parking lot I saw Taylor's Honda Civic and Michelle's own Sentra.

There were a few other boys whose names I could not recall except for one who was in my science and history class, a Greek boy named Beniamín although everyone called him Ben. I hadn't realized that Kiku and Ben were such good friends yet there they were, chatting up a storm. It was the most I had ever see Kiku talk – and seemingly the happiest I'd ever seen him.

With Peter was Laurent and three girls – one of which I remembered had fallen face first after tripping on her undone shoelace while handing out tests. That particular girl glared at me and whispered something into Laurent's ear and Laurent glared at me as well. Go ahead and glare at me, you fucking pussy. I rolled my eyes and walked over to Kiku and Ben. Of course it was going to be one of_ those_ days.

At least Michelle had been glad I had come. I think she still secretly really wanted to go to the Spring Dance with me – which was why she kept hugging me at random points. It didn't earn me any points with Peter however – he too was now glaring at me, standing with Laurent and Miss Hag.

"When are we leaving?" Ben asked during our conversation about which teachers seemed to be the absolute worst.

"Soon," Michelle piped up out of nowhere. Ben was evidently one of those people who couldn't see pixies – just like Kiku.

"Er I think we're going soon," I replied.

"We're just waiting for Samantha, Chris and Katherine – unless you invited someone," Michelle added.

"No I didn't," I said quickly.

"No you didn't what?" Ben asked curiously. I shook my head.

"Sorry I meant – I don't know for sure, but I think Samantha, Chris and Katherine still need to come," I said quickly. Ben and Kiku nodded as they continued their conversation.

Once the three remaining people arrived, plans on who would sit in each car were made as everyone tried to get with their friends.

"Hey wanna go in my car?" Michelle asked me. I glanced at Peter who was glaring at me.

"Sure but to be honest I get a little dizzy when in cars so I'll sit in the back," I offered. That way Peter could sit in the front with Michelle. Michelle nodded, a bit subdued but continued finding people to go in her car. Of course, only the people who could see her were going with her. The others were going in Taylor's Honda Civic. Never before have I been so thankful that I can see pixies until now.

Unfortunately for me, I was stuck sitting beside Laurent, who kept whispering random shit to Miss Hag, whose name I had learnt was Nicole. I decided to just ignore the effeminate boy and his beard and soak up as much sunlight as my window seat would let me.

While I stared at the passing scenery, I realized that I had gone this way before. Whenever I stayed with my father during the summers he'd take me to the even smaller town nearby to play in the beach while he and his friend George went fishing.

As we neared the small town of Riverside, I could see the river snaking by, its water a dark blue with little flecks of white foam as water from the far away rapids flowed by. I remembered my father warning me as a child not to go to far off from the beach, as the river ended in a waterfall – not as big as some of the famous ones, but a waterfall nevertheless. The part of the river we were going to branched out into another section, ending in a lake – where we would be spending the rest of the day.

Michelle pulled into the beach, parking it along a small patch of grass growing offside the road. The beach itself was a rather pathetic beach. The sand was a dark, dark brown and there sticks and stones all over the ground from the storm a few days before. Despite the sun shining over us, the 'beach' still looked pretty lame. But of course, the others had never been to an actual beach so they were excited as they exited the car. A cool wind blew over us, making the water ripple ever so slightly, and obnoxiously loud seagulls flew overhead, hoping that we had brought with us food for them to steal.

After everyone had gotten out of the two cars, and all the beach supplies were taken out from the trunks, we all decided to find a good place to put down everything – somewhere with not too much litter or debris, yet somewhere with a good load of sun exposure. We settled on a patch of the beach nearby the lake that had most likely been used before – large driftwood logs were placed around in a circle as benches.

"We'll need to get some driftwood and stuff to light a fire," Taylor said. I followed the rest of the boys to collect as much wood as I can, trying to avoid both Michelle and Taylor and trying to keep in pace with Kiku and Ben. As we came back to the girls, our arms holding as much wood as we could carry, I noticed that they had already claimed most of the benches, leaving the only free spot beside Peter [who had hung back instead of getting wood]… and Laurent. Lovely.

"Hey Arthur have you ever seen a driftwood fire?" Taylor asked me eagerly. I shrugged.

"Isn't it the same thing as a regular fire?" I asked. Laurent smirked and rolled his eyes beside me.

"Nope it's prettier. Watch," he said as he lit the driftwood we had brought back with a cigarette lighter.

"It's… _blue_?" I asked, surprised. Wasn't fire supposed to be an orangey-red?

"Yup it's because of the salt," Taylor said.

"What salt - this is a fresh water lake," I said in confusion.

"The river's connected to the ocean and the driftwood comes up the river here," Taylor replied. He seemed to know quite a bit about the ocean and this area.

As the group conversed amongst each other, I simmered in my seat quietly. Peter and Laurent were literally talking around me, occasionally slipping my name in their whispered conversations. It was beginning to get on my nerves how oddly bitchy these two _boys_ were.

Thankfully though, a boy named Aaron pitched the idea to go take a little hike around the lake and the nearby patch of trees. There were all sorts of wildlife lurking there; I immediately wanted to go. My decision was further confirmed as Peter, Laurent, Nicole and Taylor all chose to stay back with the others. In the end, Ben, Kiku, Aaron, Michelle, Lucas, Chris, Katherine and I were the only ones going. Michelle flashed me a bright smile when she realized I would be coming too. I planned on sticking with Ben and Kiku, _away_ from her.

The little patch of trees could hardly be called a forest, but as little slivers of sunlight snuck its way through the leaves and branches, and as the dew covered flowers sparkled in the stolen sunshine, it felt like I was in one. I was silent the entire trip – the entire view had made me go speechless in awe. It was a rather remarkable place – something I hadn't expected to find in this dark and rainy hell hole.

Of course, after a while us boys began to get hungry. We convinced Michelle and Katherine to come back to the beach for food – something they weren't willing to do, wanting to hang back and coo over the cute rabbits they had seen lurking nearby one of the oak trees.

As we neared our little campfire spot, we noticed that some of the locals of Riverside had come to join us. Some boys, as well as some girls. Oddly, although they weren't part of a tribe, they all looked alike. Blonde hair and blue eyes – the whole lot of them.

Liam stood to introduce us to the newcomers. Being no good with names, I didn't really bother trying to memorize each name to each face, but as Liam introduced the youngest looking boy, I noticed him staring at me curiously before looking away.

As we snacked on our food, I was thankful for the millionth time about choosing to sit with Kiku. Out of all the friends I had made since my arrival to St Helens, he seemed like the only true one. It was easy sitting with him too – he never really demanded that you keep talking to him. He let a guy sit and just think. This is what I did, of course. Kiku and Ben however, spent the entire time talking, leaving me to wonder whether or not Kiku liked Ben more than just friends. Maybe I was just being stupid, or maybe ever since I realized I was gay my perception on the relationships between other guys strengthened, but something told me that Kiku wanted perhaps to be more than just friends with Ben. Moving on from that thought, I continued to think about the past month and how unbelievably different my life was from the life I lived back in London. Moving on from _that_ thought, I wondered about how my mother, Victoria and my stepfather Calvin were doing in America.

As the sun slowly became covered by the clouds, the group began to break up into little groups – some people going hiking, some people staying by the beach and conversing with the locals, some people leaving the beach altogether to go shopping in Riverside. Thankfully, Michelle and a closely following Peter both went shopping.

There was a small group of us left at the driftwood log benches. I, along with Kiku, Ben, Laurent, Taylor and Nicole sat on two of the logs while three of the local boys – including the one that had been staring at me – sat on the third one. The boy who had stared at me was a curious little fellow. He looked at least fifteen, his bright blue eyes sparkling with childish innocence behind a small pair of glasses. Like Dr. Paye, the boy had a curious strand of hair sticking out upwards above his forehead. Although it wasn't very chilly, he wore a bomber jacket with a little patch stitched on his left sleeve saying distinctly, "I'm A Hero!"

The boy seemed to have noticed my staring and promptly said, "You're Arthur Kirkland aren't you?"

"Yeah…" I replied a bit uncertainly. I know I had been introduced to the locals by Liam, but I hadn't expected the boy to actually remember my name.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones," he said beaming, holding out his left hand for me to shake. His voice had an odd accent. "You and your dad bought my dad's truck," he added.

"Oh," I said, understanding now, shaking his hand. "George's kid? I should probably remember you."

"Nah – my dad sent me to a boarding school in America when I was five – just came back a year ago," Alfred said. That explained the accent. "You probably remember my sisters."

"Hilary and Sarah?" I asked, trying to mask my horror. The girls were absolute _horrors_ – they seemed to love experimenting their new make-up techniques all on me, not realizing that I was a _boy_. Perhaps it had been a smart thing for George to send Alfred to America. Because of Albert and George's love of fishing, I was forced to spend my summers with the two girls, which was always a scarring experience. Hilary was a very feministic girl, always wanting to be in charge and bossing people around. Sarah was the pretty one, always getting the attention of local boys. It was no wonder that Hilary was the smarter one of the twins. "Oh God, are they here?" I asked, scanning the girls along the beach line, hoping I wouldn't see the two faces that I had tried so hard to erase from my memory. I hoped they wouldn't recognize me.

"No," Alfred said thankfully, shaking his head. "Hilary went to Oxford for university – she's studying politics or something. Sarah married some dude who was involved with oil rigs and they're living in Alaska right now," he said.

"Whoa… married?" I said. As much as I had expected Sarah to get married early [or get pregnant early] the fact that she was only a couple years older still shocked me.

"Yup. Let's stop talking about them – they'd probably be the villains in a comic book," Alfred said shuddering. "How do you like the truck?"

"It's great – slow, but that's how I prefer it."

"That's good – my dad originally wanted me to have it but heroes like me need fast cars – not turtles like that truck!" Alfred seemed to be on the cocky side with a rather annoying delusion that he was some sort of hero. But I didn't really mind. "I'm trying to get enough parts for my 1993 Honda – not really the car that heroes would drive but its fun working on it," Alfred informed me.

"You build cars?" I asked interest. This vain little boy was oddly fascinating. He beamed at me.

"Yup," he replied. "I like pretending that when I fix cars and stuff, I'm saving their lives. It's like I'm the hero of cars!" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. This hero business was getting rather dull.

"You know Arthur, Alfred?" Laurent asked with an insolent tone from across the fire. He was sitting beside Taylor, both boys attempting to figure out how to work the CD player Lucas brought along with him.

"Yeah I've been much known him since I was born," Alfred said jokingly. Laurent's gaze flickered to him before going back to me.

"Cool," he remarked, his tone implying that he did not find it cool at all. "I was just mentioning to Taylor – it's a pity that the Paye boys couldn't have come. Didn't somebody invite them to come?" he said, trying to look concerned.

"You mean Dr Roderich Paye's family?" a tall menacing looking blonde said. He was on the tall side, looking more like a man than a boy. His azure eyes stared at Laurent, waiting to his response. If I was Laurent, I would've fucking ran.

"Yes – you know them?" he said snottily, still unaware of the look in the blonde man's eyes.

"The Payes are not welcome here," the blonde replied in a finite tone, ignoring Laurent's question.

Taylor claimed Laurent's attention again by asking the boy for his opinion on a certain CD. I wondered then if Laurent was gay. He fit the stereotype well. I hoped for my sake that Laurent was gay, so that Taylor would stop following me around and harass Laurent instead. It would kill two birds with one stone – I'd get rid of Taylor once and for all and Laurent would be forced to deal with Taylor's annoying habit of following the person he liked around.

I glanced back at the tall blonde man, who was now staring off into the horizon. I wondered what he meant when he said the Payes weren't allowed. He made it seem as though they were prohibited or something. What could the Payes have possibly done to get themselves _banned_ from Riverside? Did Francis rape the entire town?

"So has St Helens driven you over the edge yet?" Alfred asked eagerly, interrupting my thoughts.

"Understatement of the year," I said and Alfred laughed.

I was still attempting to figure out why the Payes weren't allowed in Riverside when I was hit with an idea. A rather stupid plan, guaranteed to not work. But hey, maybe Alfred, like most teen boys, was still trying to figure out… his sexual orientation? Maybe he had a slight attraction to guys – either way I hoped he wouldn't see past my horrible attempts at seduction.

"Hey do you want to go see the cliffs? I've always wanted to see it again," I suggested. I didn't even need to wink or anything – Alfred just hopped up on his feet, ready to go.

"You come to St Helens often?" I asked casually, following him past the lake back towards the river, to get to the waterfall – that's where the cliffs are.

"No not really – hopefully I'd go more often once I fix my car – and I get my license," Alfred replied.

"Who was that guy Laurent was talking to? He looked a lot older than us," I asked.

"That's Berwald – funny name isn't it? He's nineteen," Alfred informed me.

"He seemed pretty pissed when Laurent talked about the doctor's family," I remarked casually.

"Yea. The Payes aren't allowed here," Alfred replied just as casually, kicking a stone nearby.

"Why not?" I asked curiously.

"Can't say. It's a secret and heroes like me don't break secrets," Alfred said. Dammit. "Here are the cliffs," he added, holding a hand out to keep me from walking over the edge. I had been concentrating so hard on Alfred that I hadn't noticed that we had reached the cliff.

"Nice view," I said, sitting down. Alfred sat down beside me.

"Yup," he agreed.

"But about that secret… why can't you tell me? I promise not to tell," I said quietly. I hoped Alfred could hear me over the roar from the nearby waterfall. I leaned in closer than either of us would've liked. "Please?" I murmured, trying to imitate the look Francis got in his eyes when he got me to agreeing to let him take me to Liverpool. Alfred blinked and blushed, eyes darting away from mine.

"Do you like scary stories?" he asked me.

"I love them," I said, still not moving away from him. It was an awkward position for me; the arm I was resting on was beginning to hurt and was in danger of buckling.

"Me too – they terrify me though. This story isn't that scary thankfully," Alfred admitted. I tried to not display my impatience. "So you know how all the citizens of Riverside are descendents of tribal people right? Yea well according to tribal legends, they evolved from wolves or something," he chuckled, signifying how little he believed in these legends "and there's some other legend how they used to interact with countries – as in, there were people who actually were the personified versions of countries or whatever and the tribal people communicated with them. And then there's the legend about the cold ones," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper. I had to lean in even closer to hear him.

"The… cold ones?" I asked. The name was rather corny for a legend.

"Yea. Those legends are almost as old as the legends about the wolves. There are some pretty recent legends too – like the one about my great-grandfather, George Senior, who actually knew the 'cold ones' and had made the treaty that kept them away from our town," he said rolling his eyes.

"Your great-grandfather?" I asked.

"Yea. He was like some sort of tribal leader or something – kinda like how my dad's mayor I guess. According to legend, the cold ones are the only natural enemies of the wolf… ish. But not like the actual animal wolf… but… men who can turn into wolves."

"Werewolves."

"Yea! Kinda cool right? Wouldn't it be cool to be some sorta werewolf superhero? Anyways, the cold ones have always been our enemies but this pack that came to my great-grandfather was different. They didn't hunt the way the others did – they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-granddaddy made a truce with them. If they keep off our turf then we don't expose their secret to the rest of the world," he said grinning.

"But if they aren't dangerous why the hell would your great-grandfather go to the trouble of making up a truce?" I asked. Alfred's eyebrow rose, amused at how into the story I was.

"Because there's always some sort of risk for regular humans to be around them, even ones as civilized as the ones I was talking about. Just because they're good doesn't mean they don't get temptations and stuff. They aren't the heroes in this story."

"What are you talking about… _civilized_? What, are the rest of them cavemen?"

"No, I mean they… they claimed that they don't hunt humans. Apparently they're able to hunt animals instead."

"But about the Payes… how does it relate to them? Are they like the cold ones from your legends?" I asked casually.

Alfred grinned wickedly. "They're the same ones," he said dramatically. My jaw dropped. Pleased with my reaction he continued, "There are two new guys in their group but the rest are still the same. When my great-granddad was alive, he knew the leader, Roderich. That Roderich dude's been alive even longer than most of the oldest families in St Helens," he said, waggling his eyebrows. It was obvious he found this all very funny and very fake.

"What are they anyways? The 'cold ones'? Pretty dorky name for them don't you think?" I asked.

"Well that's not really what they're called. Think of the natural enemy for a werewolf."

"… a stake? Silver bullets? Witches? Trolls? Fairies? Kennels?"

"No. Think Buffy – she's a pretty hot chick. I'd like her to be _my_ heroine."

"… vampires?"

"Bingo!" he said cheerily.

I leaned away from Alfred and stared out into the horizon. I wasn't as cheerful as Alfred was following our conversation.

"You have goosebumps," Alfred pointed out. I glanced at my arms. He was right.

"I guess you're a pretty good storyteller," I remarked.

"Pretty insane ain't it? I get why my dad doesn't want us spreading it around – we'd seem like we were out of whack," Alfred said, standing up. I stood up as well.

"Don't worry – I'm not going to tell anyone," I promised. Alfred laughed.

"Who'd believe you if you told them anyways?" he said, still laughing. I forced out a laugh, still trying to wrap my mind around everything I had just learnt. "Hey I just violated the treaty by telling you didn't I? That's pretty badass isn't it?" he said in amusement as we walked back towards the beach.

"I guess…"

"But seriously Arthur. Don't tell your dad – he was pissed at my dad when he found out that a lot of us haven't been going to the hospital ever since Dr Paye worked there – since Riverside doesn't got a hospital."

"Doesn't have. But don't worry Alfred… I won't tell anyone."

As we neared the beach, Michelle and Peter waved at us.

"There you are – we were wondering where you got off to," Peter called out in annoyance.

"Where were you?" Michelle asked.

"Is that your boyfriend?" Alfred whispered to me.

"W-what? Who – _Peter_? God no," I said, horrified. Out of all the boys to supposedly have a relationship with…

"Alfred was just telling me some stories about Riverside and stuff," I said casually when we neared. Michelle glared at him although Alfred didn't seem to notice – he probably couldn't see her. Peter looked disappointed.

"Oh. I thought you fell off a cliff or something," he said.

"As if Arthur would be able to fall off a cliff while he's with me," Alfred said puffing out his chest. Peter and I both rolled our eyes.

"We're packing up now – it looks like rain so we're gonna leave," Peter said. Michelle did not say anything, still staring at Alfred and wondering whether or not he was a threat to her chances with me.

"Oh ok," I turned to Alfred, who was smiling at me hopefully.

"So maybe when I get my license we could—"

"You should drop by my house sometime. We could hang out and stuff." As guilty as I felt about manipulating Alfred into telling me about the cold ones and violating a sacred treaty, I really did like the boy. He was full of himself yes, but rather amusing to be with – not that I'd ever tell him that. I tried not to notice the look of fury on Michelle's face. I had no idea she was so territorial of her crushes. It terrified me.

Alfred's face brightened. "Sure!" he said. "See you!" he said over his shoulder as he jogged away to join Berwald and the other locals. I turned back to Peter and Michelle, who looked like she was going to rip Alfred's head off. Perhaps Alfred left at the right time.

I pulled the hood up of my dark green hoodie as a few drops hit my head. When the three of us reached Michelle's and Taylor's cars everyone else was already done putting everything away in each trunk and were figuring out which cars to sit in. I snuck into the backseat of Taylor's Honda Civic, a tired Kiku in between me and Ben. Laurent chose to sit in the shotgun seat so he could spend the car trip back to St Helens talking to Taylor, further instilling belief in me that he might be gay. As we drove home I noticed that Kiku had managed to fall asleep and his head was resting lightly on Ben's shoulder, Ben also asleep. I tried to pay attention in the passing scenery as raindrops fell on the window. I tried to distract myself from thinking about anything, because if I thought, I'd end up thinking about the Payes and…

It was going to be very hard trying to not think about that.

* * *

**A/N: Huu... this was really long, non? And yes, Jacob has finally been revealed! It's actually thanks to Alfred I started writing this story. One day I was musing about how USUK vs FrUK reminded me of Team Edward and Team Jacob, I laughed and was all "But Al can't be Edward because that then that would be USUK would prevail and that's totally not my OTP - plus he acts more like Jacob" and _that_ made me picture Francis as Edward and _that_ made me realize Bella and Arthur are both moody and antisocial and yeah... I basically was inspired but that all to write this story. So y'all have Alfred to thank. **

**Can anyone guess who Alfred's sisters are? Just as a note - all the nations who appear in this story - excluding the Paye family - all of their family members will be political figures from their native countries. Like how Arthur's parents are named Albert and Victoria - after Queen Victoria and her husband. **

**Oh and Ben is the name of Angela's crush/friend/boyfriend in Twilight. I didn't like the idea of putting Kiku with an OC but I needed the other characters as more central figures so I made Ben Greek, just because. Laurent is an OC in one of my own little stories I like writing. He's French and has a hatred of British people. He started off as a girl named Laurel but then I remembered that Taylor was gay so I made Laurel into Laurent. **

**The other Riverside boys will most likely be the Scandinavian countries, I haven't really figured that all out yet. **

**Review, por favor?**


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

I had another fucked up dream that night. Only in this one, right after the sex… Alfred pops up out of nowhere and starts yelling at me to run away. I tell him to go away and turn back to Francis, who is trying to bite my neck. I realize that Alfred had a point, turn back to him and somehow, he's turned into a wolf. I'm never eating hamburgers cooked by teenage boys ever again.

But it got me thinking. What if Alfred's stupid 'scary stories' were actually real? I highly doubted some of it, but the vampire part…

Could it actually be true? That Francis and his brothers were vampires? As strange as it sounded, I was ready to believe that idea. I mean, Michelle is solid proof that pixies exist. So if pixies can exist… why can't vampires [or unicorns for that matter]?

The thought practically devoured my mind. I was submerged in thought, only answering in grunts to Albert's questions and walking around to places in a daze.

The next day I managed to get to school earlier than expected and ended up sitting in the cafeteria alone, still wondering whether or not Francis could be a vampire.

I know it sounds silly in print, but believe me, the thought that this person I interacted with – somebody I _knew_… drinking blood?

At least it made sense now. Why Francis told me it wasn't best for us to be friends. Imagine, just hanging out with him and then WHAM, you get a paper cut and its game over for you. I was ready to avoid the boy at all costs. It wouldn't be hard either – considering what a piss-off he was.

But for some reason, I couldn't. Something in me didn't _want_ to stop being friends with him. It was probably the same fucking thing that kept conjuring up those dreams.

"Arthur!" a voice said, cutting through my thoughts. I looked up and realized that the school had become more populated from when I first arrived.

"Hullo Michelle," I said as she sat down across from me, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight.

"Hey your hair has streaks of brown in it," Michelle said suddenly, pointing at my head. "That's hot."

I looked away, feeling intensely uncomfortable. "Great day isn't it?" I said, trying to change the subject. Michelle nodded enthusiastically.

"Hey what did you do yesterday?" she asked a little too casually. I shrugged.

"Homework." And thinking about a certain boy…

"What subject?"

"Math."

"What math homework?"

"That calculus shit we were given on Friday."

"I guess I'll have to do that soon," Michelle said quietly. "But I was going to ask you out."

"Excuse me?" I said harshly. Was it impossible to have a decent conversation with Michelle without her flirting with me?

"You know nothing big. Like, to the movies or something," she said hopefully. I sighed.

"Michelle that's not a good idea," I said slowly. I_ really_ did not know how to talk to girls.

"Why not?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Think about how Peter might feel," I decided that talking subtly to Michelle was not going to work.

"Peter?" Obviously I was _too_ subtle.

"My God Michelle I know you're blonde but _really_?" I asked in slightly horror.

"Oh," she said quietly, the realization showing in her eyes. I used this silence as my opportunity to escape.

"It's time for class and I don't want to be late," I said walking away, leaving the pixie at the table, still deep in thought. I sincerely thought whatever the hell she was thinking would steer her in the right direction. As irritating and child-like Peter could be, I didn't want to lose any friends.

When I saw Peter in science, he was going on about how he, Kiku, and Laurent were planning to buy presents for their dates (in an attempt to be romantic) and invited me to join.

"Why are Kiku and Laurent going with?" I asked, surprised.

"Michelle forced me to get him to ask that Asian chick in his English class and Laurent's going with Taylor."

Although I really felt that Kiku would've preferred going with Ben, I was amused to find out my suspicious about Laurent were correct. Even though I wasn't going to the dance myself, and as much as I found buying presents for their dates ridiculous, I decided to go. There was no point in being antisocial. I knew my father wouldn't like that.

Peter wouldn't shut up about the dance. I couldn't concentrate on compounds and the like when I had '_and then I'll put my arms around her waist and pull her close and kiss her really sweetly and she'll swoon and fall madly in love with me and we'll get married in a castle and have our honeymoon in Italy!'_ in my head.

Thankfully, as we parted for our separate classes I managed to distract myself from her conversation with my own worries. A part of me really wanted to see… _him_ but another part didn't want to see him, to confirm all my suspicions. Actually, I kind of wanted to see the Paye boys in general – look and compare them all to what Alfred had told me.

My stomach felt like it was in knots as Peter, Michelle and I entered the cafeteria. We had arrived late because Michelle's and my math teacher had held the class back to finish his lesson and Peter was unwilling to go without Michelle. Majority of the cafeteria was full already. I turned to casually glance at the Paye table.

It was completely empty.

I spent the rest of lunch moping.

History had been insanely boring. Mr. Provence decided to give our class a lesson on World War I, something I had learned very thoroughly at my old school. A part of me had hoped that maybe – just _maybe_ Francis would be here for history. Not that I wanted him to be there. Not at all.

After going home I noticed that on my computer I had several emails from my mother, inquiring on how I was. I typed up a short yet detailed email about how my past few weeks had been before shutting the computer down and walking to my bookshelf.

I had many stories that I could've read, all read many times and very well loved, but I decided to read the first Harry Potter book instead.

It was a surprisingly beautiful day outside and in an attempt to get some vitamin D I decided to take my reading outside. I ended up reading some random line about vampires and couldn't bring myself to read the rest, now far too distracted to be able to read anything else. I tried taking a nap under the warm sun but started feeling overheated and decided to retreat back inside.

My father found me lazily flicking through channels attempting to find something to distract me from certain topics involving French boys and sucking blood.

"What, no smell of burning food to greet me as I come home?" Albert joked as he through his gun onto the dining table. I paused in my channel surfing to give him a glare.

"I didn't feel like cooking," I replied and Albert laughed.

"Good for me I guess," he replied and I chose to ignore that jab at my cooking skills. "Oh well, I don't mind. I wanted to watch the game before it ended," he added, grabbing the remote from me and changing the channel to some cricket-centric sports channel. Even though he knew I hated cricket [bloody couldn't understand the damned game], he still made me watch, not really wanting to sacrifice the game for my amusement. I ended up walking upstairs to find something to do but falling asleep in the process.

The morning was just as sunny as it had been before. I took this to be a good sign and dressed more casually than usual. Instead of wearing my regular long sleeved sweater vest, I decided to be plucky and wear a short sleeved one instead, even though I wasn't one to flaunt my pale skin around.

I had cleverly planned to arrive at school just as the bell rang, forced to circle the parking lot for a free space and hopefully finding a bright red Ferrari parked in one of the sports. I found none and pretended as though that didn't disappoint me. It's not like I cared if the stupid frog was at school. I was better off without him annoying me and saying stupid cryptic things.

School was just like any normal boring day. My classes were insanely boring, we learned nothing new, Peter wouldn't shut the fuck up, and there was no Francis to make my day interesting. Of course, instead of driving home during my spare period Kiku and I were forced to wait for Peter so we could go on our 'gift-buying' trip. I became significantly more excited with the thought of going out of the dreary town when I found out Laurent couldn't come because of other obligations.

Peter followed me home in his rather nice silver car [I wasn't sure what make it was and frankly didn't really care] and waited for me to drop my backpack at home and leave my truck there too. As much as I hated to admit it, Francis had a point when he said my truck wouldn't be able to make a long distance trip.

I left a note for Albert telling him to buy something for dinner and threatened in the note that if I came back and found a little sarcastic message from him under mine about being relieved from my cooking skills that I would personally make his lunch for the next month before locking the house shut and getting into Peter's car to pick up Kiku. Despite the fact we were going out of town for the lame excuse for buying presents, my excitement about leaving St. Helens rose as we drove out of town limits.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, this chapter is shorter than the others and I apologize for that. Sorry for taking so long to post btw - I try to keep myself at least 3-5 chapters ahead of how far I am in posting so in case something happens, I still have chapters to post and school's prevented me from writing and yeah. Damn high school T_T" **

**And yeah, this chapter's pretty boring - not gonna lie. The exciting shit happens next chapter. I think. *checks Twilight* Yup... that's the chapter where Bella meets some _interesting _men... heh. **

**Review, please? And heh, 69 reviews -isveryimmature- xD Let's see if we can get the reviews to 100, yeah? Reviews make me write faster ;D**


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

Since Peter drove far faster than Albert and I would ever attempt at driving, we reached the other town in less than a half hour; which was good because Peter's attempt at singing along to the radio was making me want to rip my hair out and kill myself before my ears bled.

Apparently, as Peter was driving us towards a department store past the town's pretty entrance, Peter and Michelle had gone on a date. Of course, the news was really directed at me more than me _and_ Kiku as Kiku still had no idea that pixies went to our school. According to Peter the date had gone really well and he was sure that Michelle was head over heels for him. I decided not to comment on that and decided to let him believe that. Kiku himself wasn't really excited of going to the Spring Dance with Mei Ling from his English class. Peter attempted to get out of him what type of girl he really preferred but I distracted Peter with pointing out a decent parking space nearby the department store. Kiku let out a sigh of relief and gave me a thankful smile.

As we were on the topic of the Spring Dance, Kiku practically begged for me to attend, claiming it would be almost as fun as the dances I might've attended back at London. Peter seemed to find it funny when I replied with a, "I actually have never been to any of my school's dances back in London."

"Why not?" he asked as we walked towards the nearest gift shop. Kiku and I exchanged a look – as inexperienced as we were, we were both sure that going to a cheap tourist shop to buy a present for a girl was not the way to go. Kiku pushed Peter away from the display of key chains and led him towards a fancier [and no doubt pricier] store.

I shrugged. "I was never asked." Peter glowered.

"People didn't ask you there so you don't go, but when people ask you here you say no? Well… no to everyone but Taylor I guess," Peter added thoughtfully. I sputtered.

"Taylor? What are you talking about?" I demanded. Peter and Kiku exchanged a look.

"Taylor told _everyone_ that he's taking you to prom," Peter told me. I felt a flash of horror.

"_What_?" I practically howled. Kiku sighed.

"I told you Arthur wasn't going with Taylor," he said quietly to Peter.

As much as I had refused to let anything put down my mood, the news that Taylor might possibly be my date for prom irritated me significantly.

"That's why Laurent doesn't like you by the way," Peter added and suddenly I felt slightly amused.

It wasn't hard for Peter to find a number of nice things for Michelle – the only problem was with Peter actually deciding which one to get her. As Peter did 'eenie meanie' on his top five choices, I walked over to Kiku. Kiku was looking at a teddy bear and pretty little statue of a female fairy sitting on a flower with confusion.

"The teddy bear looks cute. It has almost the same type of flower that she's always wearing," I remarked coming behind him. Kiku turned and shrugged.

"I suppose so," he said, picking up the bear. "You know, I like Mei very much and she is always very nice to me but…"

"She's not your type is she?" I asked and Kiku nodded, sighing. "You would prefer a _Greek_ one wouldn't you?" I hinted slyly. Kiku blushed.

"W-what are you talking about?" he stuttered and I smirked in response.

"Oh nothing," I replied casually. "Hey, do the Paye boys miss school a lot?" I asked, hoping I sounded casual and nonchalant. Kiku nodded as he put down the bear.

"Whenever there is really nice weather the Payes all go backpacking – including their parents. They are a very outdoorsy family," Kiku replied. He didn't even bother asking me why I wanted to know. That was the good thing about Kiku – he was too polite to be as annoyingly curious as Peter. I chose the right person to ask.

After Kiku and Peter finally bought their presents [Peter some stupid action figure thing and Kiku the teddy bear], we decided to start towards the nearby café we planned on having dinner in. Because we had finished so early, I decided that I wanted to check out some of the local bookstores before eating. I let Peter and Kiku go on ahead of me – I preferred book hunting in peace.

I walked down the sidewalk, looking through windows in search of a good bookstore that might have the book I was looking for. There seemed to only be one bookstore that I saw. There was an old lady sitting there alone, hoping for someone to walk in. I decided that I didn't want to go in and be forced to talk to her and continued on my way.

I was attempting to think of random things to keep my mind off of what Kiku had told me and what I had learnt from Alfred F Jones at the beach trip. When I looked up to see what street I was on, I noticed a red car looking oddly like a certain Ferrari Enzo parked across from where I was standing, making me think of him all over again. Stupid, unreliable, annoying, French frog-vampire.

I stomped away from the stupid Enzo looking car and continued on my way, sufficiently _very_ annoyed. It was almost time to meet up with Peter and Kiku and I needed to calm down before meeting them.

The sun began to set and the area I was in began getting darker. I crossed the road and turned to my left, and that was when I realized that I was heading in the wrong direction. I was no longer walking beside stores, but warehouses. Fuck. I decided to retrace my steps to get back to a more familiar place.

As I tried to walk back to the place where the Enzo looking car was, I saw four men not too much older than I was stumbling along the sidewalk. They were all wearing dirty, ragged clothes and looked like they hadn't seen a shower for a long time. I could almost smell the booze from them. I tried walking faster to keep the healthy 50 feet distance between the men and I, thinking of the money I had in my wallet. I fervently hoped that in their intoxication they wouldn't notice me there.

"Hey, kid!" one of them yelled at me. Fuck. I decided to keep walking, turning the corner and breaking in a bit of a jog. "Hey wait!" they yelled again.

I looked around for a familiar sign, trying to lead me back to an area where there was people and where I wouldn't get mugged. I could hear them running behind me. I gulped and decided to start running straight. When I couldn't hear the men running behind me anymore I slowed down to a walk.

It wasn't until five minutes later that I heard the heavy breathing of two men not too far behind me. I prayed that they weren't part of the first group and decided to ignore them.

I tried to seem casual, as though I wasn't ready to start running for my life to save myself from being beaten to a pulp for my money.

I turned another corner. The men behind me were closer now. I tried to walk faster, only to see the other two men leaning against a wall, grinning at me. Those two men from before hadn't been following me. They had been herding me to this spot.

"There you are!" one of the men leaning against the wall said, striding towards me, his friend following behind him.

"We were just taking a little detour, weren't me?" one of the men behind me said, pushing me forwards.

"Fuck off," I growled at them, hands balling into fists, prepared to fight them if necessary. It would be difficult though – two men I could take on, but four?

One of the men laughed. "Oh come on don't be like that. We just wanted to borrow some money from you," he teased.

"And maybe these shoes too – they look expensive," another man said. I glared at them, preparing to lunge at the nearest guy and beat the shit out of him.

Headlights suddenly flew around the corner, blinding all of us temporarily. What the fuck?

I was ready to jump in front of the car to stop it when I realized it was a red Enzo. Oh.

The car stopped directly in front of me after doing a few complicated spins. Stupid show-off. The passenger door swung open.

"Get in. Now," the voice commanded me. Normally I would've refused, on account how I loathe French people and don't trust them and how Francis had no right to command me to do anything but… not wanting to take my chances with the muggers I hurried into the car before it sped away.

"How did you-?"

"Seatbelt, Arthur. The last thing I need is to get a ticket because of you."

"Jerk."

"Quoi?"

"Nothing."

We drove on in silence. Every time I mustered a sneak peek at Francis, I regretted it. He looked pissed. Very pissed. Not at me though; he hadn't started yelling at me so that was clear. I didn't wan to say anything, but the atmosphere was awkward and uncomfortable.

The car came to a sudden stop, startling me out of my thoughts.

"Arthur?" Francis asked, breathing deeply. He looked just about ready to punch a bitch out. I gulped.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Distract me."

"Why?"

"Just do it… please." Francis now sounded a bit tired.

"Uh…well… I think Kiku is gay."

"What?" Francis glanced at me briefly.

"Yeah… I think he really like the Greek boy, Ben? He always seems so happy with him."

"You have a point. I wonder why I never picked up on that…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I'm also going to murder Taylor," I continued.

"Are you?"

"Yes. He's so bloody annoying. Though, mind you, Laurent might be after my arse like some tripped out crack whore after her crack money's been stolen and-"

"Laurent and you don't get along?"

"Laurent is a bitch who is on some sort of male PMS. Of course I wouldn't get along with him."

Francis chuckled.

"Better now?" I asked. He still looked very angry…

"No."

"Why are you so angry anyways?" I asked.

"Because sometimes… sometimes I lose my temper. It would not be smart of me to go looking for those bastards…"

"Yea you shouldn't. You might rape their arses."

Francis blinked at me. "Are you still trying to distract me" he asked.

"Well – of course. You still have your creepy face on and I'd rather no ride in a car with a guy who's ready to kill somebody."

"Is that so?"

"Why do you sound like you're mocking me?"

"Why do you always get so defensive?"

"Because you provoke me," I muttered. "I should probably get back. Peter and Kiku were supposed to wait for me…"

Francis had already started driving again. We said nothing else to each other as Francis drove to the fancy Italian restaurant Peter had wanted to eat at. I looked out of the window only to see Kiku and Peter standing outside, Kiku pacing nervously. I didn't bother asking him how he knew where Peter and Kiku were. I just accounted it on his Frenchiness. I heard the door open and before I could glance at the driver's seat, Francis was already at my door, opening it for me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I hissed at him. Francis smirked before putting an arm around my waist.

"I'm taking you out to dinner, of course," He replied airily as I tried to squirm away from his arms.

"Let go of me – people are going to assume things," I hissed at him angrily. Francis shrugged and pulled me closer [much to my horror].

"Let them assume."

"Idiot."

I struggled against his hold, finally breaking free when I grabbed a chunk of his hair and yanked it. Francis cried out something about ruining his hair. What a girl.

"Peter! Kiku!" I yelled, trying to get their attention. Kiku and Peter jogged over to me; Kiku looking relieved, Peter looking annoyed. Both expressions turned to shock when they finally noticed who was behind me. They stayed back a couple of feet.

"Where the hell were you?" Peter shot at me, glancing at Francis and then back at me.

"I got lost and bumped into Francis," I said reluctantly. Peter smirked at me.

"_Bonjour_ – would it be alright if I joined you for dinner?" Francis purred at Kiku and Peter. I rolled my eyes at how Peter's jaw fell open in awe.

"Of course," Peter breathed out.

"I'm afraid t-that we already ate," Kiku said apologetically.

"It's alright. I wasn't that hungry anyways," I replied, shrugging. "I don't need to eat."

"And miss this chance to introduce you to actual food?" Francis said incredulously. "_Non._"

"I'm well acquainted with actual food," I grumbled.

"Judging by the things you bring to school, I highly doubt it," Francis replied smoothly. He then turned to Kiku and Peter. "Would it be alright if I drop Arthur home after making him eat something? That way you don't have to wait as he eats." It was probably the most Francis had said to Peter [albeit indirectly as Francis was looking at Kiku].

Peter nodded silently, clearly still in awe [Michelle apparently forgotten]. Kiku glanced at me nervously, not sure if I wanted to stay with Francis Bonnefoy alone. I shrugged and gave him a resigned look. I might as well; I had many questions to ask him once we were alone.

"A-alright," Kiku said, glancing at me with a look that clearly said 'don't get raped'. "See you tomorrow Arthur… Francis," Kiku added as an after thought before pushing Peter towards his car, which was located across the street. Peter looked insanely curious and I had an odd feeling that he would soon be telling Michelle about my encounter with Francis and that I'd soon be interrogated about it. As the car drove away, I turned back to Francis only to see him already walking into restaurant without me. Stupid frog.

The restaurant was not very crowded – something that I felt was a blessing. There was less of a chance of being seen with Francis, although I knew that after Peter talked to Michelle, the entire school would know. The host was female and the moment she laid eyes on Francis I could see the look in them as she assessed him.

Francis gave her a charming grin that practically made the woman swoon. Wanker. "A table for two?" His voice was alluring; the host looked like she was going to melt into a puddle. Her eyes flickered to me and then away, sure that we were probably just friends [not even close] and wouldn't have to think of me as a rival. As if I'd be one for her. Bloody whore. She led us to a table big enough for a large group of people in the most crowded area of the dining floor.

I made a move to sit when Francis shook his head at me. "Perhaps something more private?" he said quietly to the woman. I rolled my eyes as he smoothly passed her a tip. It surprised me that he didn't want to sit at this table though; I'd expected someone like him to love the attention sitting in the center of a semi-crowded area would bring.

The host looked just as surprised but nodded. She turned and led us around a dividing wall to a small ring of booths that were all empty. "How's this?" she asked.

"Perfect," Francis purred, winking at her. The woman flushed, dazing her momentarily.

"Err…" she blinked a few times. "Your server will be right out." She shook her head and made an attempt to steadily walk away.

"You enjoy doing that, don't you?" I asked Francis when we were finally alone. Francis's left eyebrow rose.

"Do what?" he asked innocently.

"Do that weird winking-smile thing and dazzling them. The poor girl's probably having a bloody seizure in the kitchen right now."

Francis smirked. "Do I dazzle _you_?" he asked curiously. I felt the blood rush to my face.

"Hardly," I growled, lying through my teeth. Francis's smirk grew, as though he had seen through my lie. I looked away.

The server, a pretty brunette woman who introduced herself as Allison, came at this point, saving me from further embarrassment. As I ordered my Coke [something she nearly missed because she was so busy staring at the stupid frog], I noticed that Francis did not order anything. She left and we were left alone again. I fiddled with the menu absently, glancing at the food names and wondering what I'd order when she returned with my drink and whether or not Francis would order.

Feeling like someone was watching me; I looked up only to see Francis staring at me unblinkingly. Creepy.

"What are you looking at?" I asked testily.

"How are you feeling right now?" he asked, ignoring my tone. I frowned.

"Fine," I answered. He seemed puzzled.

"Quoi? You don't feel dizzy or cold…?" he questioned. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course not," I scoffed.

"You should be," he remarked.

"Why?" I asked in confusion, frowning deeper. Francis shrugged casually.

"After nearly being mobbed and beaten to death, the normal response for any person is to go in shock," he replied. I smirked.

"I've always been good at repressing unpleasant things and have become unaffected by them," I replied and Francis smirked as well.

Thankfully, the waitress appeared [blushing deeply the moment Francis smiled at her, I have to add] and spared me from further conversation with him.

"Are you ready to order?" she asked Francis. I rolled my eyes at how she blatantly ignored me.

"Arthur?" Francis asked, gesturing to my menu. I made a move to hand it to him before realizing he was telling me to order. The waitress turned to me, her eyes constantly flicking back towards Francis.

"Er… I'll have the ravioli, thanks," I said, saying the first item I saw.

"And you?" the waitress asked Francis hopefully.

"Nothing for me, I'm afraid," Francis said warmly. I snorted. Of course he wouldn't order anything.

"Let me know if you change your mind, alright?" she asked coyly. Francis winked at her and she giggled and walked away. I rolled my eyes again, sipping my Coke. To my surprise, I was thirstier than I thought. I found myself holding an empty cup a mere few seconds later but my thirst completely satisfied. Unfortunately, in my haste to drink all of the Coke, I ended shivering from how icy cold it had been. The reaction did not escape Francis's notice.

"You are cold?" he asked and I scowled.

"Hardly. It's just the Coke," I replied, rubbing my arms to rid them off the goosebumps that had appeared.

"Did you bring a jacket?" he asked, ignoring me.

"Yes of course I did," I snapped at him. "It's…in Peter's car," I said, remembering how I had shrugged off the light jacket before entering the mall with Peter and Kiku. "Oh well," I said, shrugging, eating a piece of bread from the bread basket on the table.

Before I knew what he was doing, Francis had taken off the light green jacket he had been wearing and handed it to me. I pushed it away from me.

"I don't want it," I told him. Francis frowned, pushing it back to me with more force.

"I _insist_," he purred, reaching from under the table and putting a hand on my thigh, making my knee jerk and my face turn red. I found that a dirty, underhanded trick. I wordlessly pulled on his stupid jacket, giving him the evil eye.

"The colour green looks lovely with your eyes," he said teasingly, winking and I growled.

"Shut up, frog," I shot at him, ripping a piece of bread wolfishly with my teeth and chewing on it. Francis just chuckled in response. I wondered if I could start interrogating him now.

"Is there a reason you're staring at me?" Francis questioned, smirking lecherously. I blinked, colour flooding to my cheeks; I hadn't realized that I had been staring. I frowned.

"Not for any reason you're implying," I replied and Francis laughed. "But… I've noticed that you're usually in a better mood when your eyes are a lighter blue," I continued.

He stared at me, clearly surprised from my remark. "Quoi?" he asked.

"You're always a total arse whenever your eyes are navy blue – but I think I've come to expect it now," I continued. "I have a bit of a theory why."

Francis rolled his eyes. "Another theory?" he questioned. "Is this one also from some story?"

"Not exactly… but I didn't make it up myself," I admitted sheepishly. Francis's left eyebrow rose.

Before he could ask me what I meant, the waitress appeared with my food. It hit me at that moment that Francis and I had been leaning into each other from across the table unconsciously while we were talking since we both straightened up the moment we saw her.

After setting the dish unceremoniously in front of me [which I had to admit, didn't look half bad], she turned back to Francis.

"Are you sure there isn't _anything_ I can give you?" she asked him. Neither Francis nor I missed the double entendre. Francis beamed, making the waitress flush.

"Not at this moment, but perhaps later," he purred seductively. I ignored them both to start eating. To my surprise, the ravioli was quite good. I dug in enthusiastically, nearly missing the waitress leaving.

"How are you liking actual food?" Francis teased as he watched me eat. I glared at him. "But, you were saying before we were interrupted?" he continued, waiting for me to reply. I swallowed and figured out how to say it.

"I'll… I'll tell you in the car only if-"

"There are conditions?" Francis interrupted.

"Of course there are. I have questions to ask you," I replied. Francis frowned.

"Fine. Ask away," he replied.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Any reason whatsoever – or was it just a coincidence we managed to meet up here?"

Francis considered me for a few seconds before smirking slightly. "Next question, s'il vous plait," he answered finally.

"Answer the question first!" I demanded.

"Next," he said in a finite tone. I sighed huffily and ate a bit more before asking my second question.

"Ok. So, in a hypothetical case, let's say that someone could read minds – or something like that, but with only a few exceptions."

"Only one exception," Francis cut in. "Hypothetically," he added.

I grinned, pleased that he was playing along. "Fine, so there's one exception. How do you think that even works? Are there limitations and if there are, what are they? And how would… how would said person find someone at the right time? How would they know they were in trouble?" I asked.

"This is all hypothetical, oui?" Francis asked and I nodded. "Well… if the person who can read minds…"

"Call him Frog," I suggested. Francis rolled his eyes.

"Ok. So if _Frog_ hadn't been busy trying to get the number of a beautiful woman he had seen and had been paying attention, he wouldn't have needed the timing," Francis said, smirking. "I find it funny that you managed to get into trouble in a town so small. You probably would've spiked up their crime rate by a substantial amount," he teased. I scowled.

"This was _supposed_ to be hypothetical," I reminded him coldly as he chuckled.

"Shall we refer to you as 'Angleterre'?" he teased.

"How did you find me?" I asked suddenly, almost surprised with the intensity in my voice. "How did you know?"

Francis stared at me, frowning. It hit me that he was trying to figure out whether or not to tell me the truth.

"I followed you and your friends here," he admitted finally. I knew it – bloody stalker. I frowned.

"Any reason why you were? Apart from the fact you're a creep, of course," I asked him. Francis glared at me.

"I was trying to keep you alive," he replied irritably. I scoffed at him.

"Keep me _alive_? I can keep myself alive, thank you very much," I replied haughtily.

"Yet somehow I doubt without me, you would've been hit like road kill from Taylor's car," Francis remarked. I scowled; he had a point.

"Well maybe it was my fate to get killed by that idiot's car – ever thought of that?" I asked. "Perhaps my number was up at that moment because you interfered, fate was trying to kill me in another way."

Francis smirked darkly. "Your number was up the moment we met," he whispered. A chill went down my back as the atmosphere darkened. I remembered the hatred in his navy blue eyes and unconsciously shivered. "Do you remember it?" he asked me.

I nodded, breaking my gaze to stare down at my still quite full plate.

"It's funny that you're still alive…" Francis mused to himself, clearly lost in thought. I looked back up at him.

"Thanks to you," I said, trying to make it sound like him saving my life was an awful thing. Francis nodded. "And the fact you managed to find me. I believe I owe an explanation how, by the way," I prompted.

Francis sighed, rolling his eyes. "Eat first and then I'll talk," he said.

"No – I'll eat _while_ you're telling me," I bargained. Francis shrugged and a put a piece of ravioli in my mouth.

"It was more difficult finding you – normally I can find someone after hearing their thoughts a few times," he began. I nodded and continued to eat. "I kept a mental note of Kiku's thoughts while driving around," he continued. "And while talking to a beautiful woman named Jessica I lost track of him and after I got her number I tuned back to him and realized you had already left then I tried locating you in the bookstore that he had been wondering if you were visiting and couldn't find you there. I started listening to the people around while driving, trying to find someone who had seen your face – I was banking on the hope that people would be thinking of your horrendous eyebrows and were wondering if they were an abnormity," he added. I scowled at him.

"Then?" I prompted.

"I saw your face in one of the men's eyes. He was thinking about how you were dressed; he supposed you would have lots of money," Francis continued. "He was thinking with relish how easy it would be to pummel you and run off with the money you had," he said, clenching his teeth. "It reminded me of… of something that happened to a friend of mine long ago and it made me mad. I was going to let you go with your friends but…I didn't know what I'd do if I were alone – I might've gone and hunted them down," Francis said darkly.

I gulped. "And then raped them to death?" I offered weakly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Francis snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Are you ready to leave?" he questioned. I looked down at my now empty plate.

"Sure," I said, standing up just as the waitress came up to us. I had a suspicious feeling she had been watching us the entire time.

"How are you doing?" she asked Francis, who pulled on a charming smile for it.

"I'm ready… for the check," he tacked on, implying something else entirely different. The waitress blinked, obviously breathless. I rolled my eyes in annoyance. She pulled out a check from a small black folder and handed it to Francis, who already had a bill in his hand. "You can keep the change," he said, winking. The waitress practically swooned at the comment, prancing back to the kitchen happily. As we made our way towards the exit, Francis made a point of talking to every girl who was eyeing him – including some of the men.

"Can we go now or are you not done hitting on everyone?" I shot at him irritably. Francis beamed at me as we walked out into the cool night air.

"Is someone jealous?" he teased. I glared at him.

"What the hell is there to be jealous of?" I replied crossly.

The moment we got to the car, Francis strode in front of me and opened the passenger, holding it open for me – beaming like he was being a gentleman and I was the idiot girl who was with him. Blushing and pushing him out of the way I got it, slamming it shut and putting my seatbelt on. I hated to admit it, but I was glad I was wearing Francis's stupid jacket – it had gotten quite cold. A part of me was very happy of the fact Francis was probably freezing, even if he didn't look it.

Francis managed to get through the traffic with ease, turning towards the highway. I snuck a glance at him, only to notice he was staring at me, an odd look on his face.

"What?" I growled at him, feeling uncomfortable. Francis beamed.

"Now it's my turn to ask _you_ questions!" Francis said happily.

* * *

**A/N: Et voila, a long chapter to make up for the filler chapter last time. :D And wheeee, 83 reviews! I'm so pleased with how many reviews this story is getting - I honestly thought I might get at least 20 or something when I first started writing it because I didn't think it would be that good [since I'm terrible at first person stories]. But yay! COOKIES FOR EVERYONE!**

**Review~?**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven:

"I'm not done asking my questions yet!" I protested, paling at Francis's atrociously fast driving.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Fine – but only one more," he agreed finally. I thought about which question to ask.

"You said that you knew I went southwards – how?" I asked. Francis smirked.

"Isn't it obvious? I followed your scent. You smell _delicious_, by the way," Francis purred. I glared at him, ignoring the blush creeping up my cheeks.

"You didn't answer my other question before – about the mind-reading thing. How does that work and can you read everyone's minds? And can your entire family do it?" I questioned him.

"That's more than one question," Francis protested. I glared at him until he answered. "And no, I'm the only person I know who can read minds. It's not like I can read every single person's mind though – just the people nearby me. If I hear someone's voice a lot, I'm usually able to hear their voice even if they're further away from me. Normally I ignore most of the voices; the only time I pay attention to them is when I walk into a room and I listen to hear what they're thinking of me," he answered, smirking slightly.

"So why can't you hear me?" I asked.

Francis frowned. "I don't know why," he admitted. "Perhaps it's because you're extremely thick-headed," Francis joked and I scowled at him. "It's a pity though – I'd _love_ to hear what you think of _me_," he purred, staring at me with his intense blue eyes.

I was quite relieved he couldn't hear what I thought at that moment.

"But enough of me – I want to hear about you know," Francis said, still looking at me with his blue eyes.

I frowned, trying to figure out how to begin. My eyes flickered towards the speedometer and I blanched.

"What the fuck!" I howled, gripping the sides of my seat in a panic. Francis blinked at me, surprised. "Slow the fuck down! I know _you_ won't die when we collide into another car at bloody 130 miles per hour but _I_ will!"

"We won't crash," Francis reassured me, still not looking where he was going. I felt all colour drain away from my face as he swerved to the left, nearly hitting the car in front of us.

"I swear to God if you don't slow down right now…" I threatened angrily, my voice shaking with either fear or anger – or even a mix of both. My eye twitched as the speedometer rose to 140.

"Quoi? What would you do?" Francis asked. "Would you _kill_ me?" He started laughing.

"I hate you so much," I growled, pressing myself against the back of my seat and praying to God I'd make it out okay.

"Hate is such a strong word mon cheri – it's better to _love_ rather than hate," Francis said airily. He flashed me a grin and I gave him the most hateful look I could muster in my current state. "Besides," he continued, "I love seeing you so aggressive," he murmured, leaning in.

"KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD," I screamed, blushing furiously and Francis turned back to face the front, eyes dancing with mirth. I scowled and stared out the window, noting that I couldn't see much outside – but anything was better than looking at Francis.

"So will you tell me about your theory now?" Francis asked hopefully.

"No."

"You promised~!"

"That was before you tried to kill me with your reckless driving. I ought to report you to my father – he's the head cop in this stupid town, you know."

"But you wouldn't."

"What makes you so sure of that?" I snapped, turning back to glare at him. Francis smiled gently, making my stomach jolt unexpectedly.

"Because you wouldn't," Francis repeated smoothly. I flushed and looked away. "Now you'll tell me your theory, oui?"

"Don't you dare laugh," I muttered and Francis nodded. "Well… I didn't really think of this one myself," I admitted.

"Another one from a comic book?" Francis teased and I flushed.

"No of course not," I snapped. "I got it from the beach trip."

"Quoi?" Francis asked, confused.

"I met someone who is the son of my dad's friend, Alfred F. Jones," I explained. Francis still looked confused. "His dad is the mayor of Riverside… his great-grandfather was some sort of tribal leader in his day," I added. Francis understood now, a frown appearing on his face.

"I see," Francis said quietly. "Go on," he urged, nevertheless.

"He told me one of his legends." I hesitated, not sure if Francis even wanted to hear what I had found out.

"Arthur?" Francis asked, waiting for me to go on. I nodded and continued.

"It was about vampires," I said, glancing at him – to see if Francis had any reaction. Francis's face was blank as he stared straight at the road in front of us. The only reaction that I could tell Francis had from what I just said was the fact that he was gripping the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles going an ever paler white.

"And? You automatically supposed that I was one?" Francis asked, trying to keep his voice light. I shook my head.

"No… he – he mentioned your family," I replied. Francis didn't reply. "He thought it was some stupid superstition – thought it was kind of funny… and embarrassing. I made him tell me though," I added, feeling slightly guilty.

"Why?" Francis asked me, still not making eye-contact.

"Laurent decided to be an arse and mentioned you in an attempt to provoke me. One of the Riverside blokes said your family wasn't allowed here and… I asked Alfred to tell me," I explained lamely. There was no way in hell I was telling Francis about my attempts at flirting.

"How?" Francis asked.

"I asked very nicely and Alfred was so in awe at how much of a gentleman I was that he automatically agreed to tell me," I replied stiffly, looking away. Francis burst out laughing. My cheeks flooded with colour as I turned to glare at him.

"And what did you do after that?" he asked me after laughing for a full two minutes.

"Researched on the internet."

"And?"

"Found some stupid bogus sounding stuff. Then I realized that I didn't really care and went to sleep," I said nonchalantly, sneaking a glance at Francis. Francis seemed indifferent to my reply, yet his hands were gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary.

"You don't _care_?" Francis asked, sounding surprised – and a tad bit horrified.

"I don't."

"You don't that I'm not even human? That I'm a monster?" Francis questioned. I shrugged.

"I've met humans who were monsters and non-humans who were humane," I replied.

"But how could you not-wait. Non-humans?" Francis asked, turning to stare at me. I faced him and rolled my eyes.

"You aren't the first non-human I've ever met you know," I told him. Francis stared at me for a few seconds before turning away.

"So you really don't care?" Francis asked.

"I don't. I'm just… curious," I admitted.

"Of what?"

"How old are you?" I blurted out.

"Seventeen," Francis replied smoothly. I snorted.

"You don't look a day older than 20-something," I told him.

"I'm seventeen," Francis repeated.

"How long have you been seventeen?" I asked sceptically. Francis opened his mouth to reply and closed it again, a thoughtful look on his face.

"A while," Francis finally replied, looking sheepish. "I don't know the exact amount."

I nodded. "So the whole 'can't come out during the day' thing is a myth then, isn't it?" I continued. Francis nodded. "And you don't sleep in coffins, do you?" I added.

"Of course not. Coffins are ugly and tacky," Francis said, looking miffed. "Besides – I can't sleep."

"At all?" I questioned.

"At all," Francis repeated.

"Yet you still manage to fuck around with the entire student body," I muttered to myself.

"Hmmm?"

"Nothing."

"I heard, that you know," Francis remarked and I stared at him.

"I was only saying the truth," I replied and Francis laughed.

"How can it be true? You said the entire student body – aren't _you_ part of the student body?" he purred, leaning in. I blushed and leaned away, turning to stare out the window again.

"Keep your bloody eyes on the road," I muttered and Francis laughed again.

"I'm surprised you haven't yet asked me the most important question of all," Francis said after a brief silence. I glanced back at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"My diet, of course," Francis replied.

"Oh right," I said. "Of course."

"Do you not care about that either?" Francis asked.

"I don't care. You have your tastes and I have mine," I replied steadily. Truth be told, the whole drinking blood thing freaked me out – but as if I was going to tell Francis that.

"Pity yours is so terrible," Francis joked lightly and I scowled. "Are you really indifferent about it though? I would think that someone who faints at the sight of blood and gore like you would be horrified by it," Francis teased, his eyes twinkling with mirth. My scowl deepened.

"I don't faint at the sight of blood and gore," I growled.

"Oh _désolé_ – I meant _nearly_ faint," Francis said, chuckling.

"Shut up," I muttered, looking away.

"You didn't answer my question yet," Francis reminded me.

"The answer is yes. I don't care if you drink blood – it's not like its human blood anyways," I replied. From the corner of my eye, I could see Francis frown.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Alfred told me your family didn't hunt people," I told him, slightly surprised at how casual my voice sounded – considering the subject matter. "And because of that, you weren't supposed to be very dangerous."

"Alfred really said that my family wasn't dangerous?" Francis's voice was sceptical.

"He said that you weren't _supposed_ to be dangerous but there was still the chance that you would be – which is why they don't want you to come near Riverside," I replied. Francis nodded, understanding now. "So… was he right? Do you hunt animals?" I asked.

"Yes," Francis replied. He sighed, the teasing twinkle in his eye. "But we _are_ dangerous. We're all very good at controlling ourselves but sometimes… sometimes we make mistakes," Francis murmured. The dark atmosphere was back, hanging over us like a blanket. I swallowed thickly.

"Mistakes?" I repeated.

"Allowing ourselves to be near temptation. Kind of like how I'm sitting here with you," Francis replied. I looked away.

"So this is a mistake?" I asked, surprised with how sad that suddenly made me.

"The most dangerous one I could do," Francis said quietly.

A silence hung over us. Francis concentrated on navigating down the darkened highway and I busied myself by staring out the window. The silence felt awkward and I squirmed in my seat as the silence lengthened.

"Why do you hunt animals instead of people?" I asked suddenly, turning back to face him, my voice coming out louder than expected. Francis blinked, surprised by the sudden question.

"Do you think I want to be a monster?" he asked me, still in 'dark-mode'.

"Yet you prey on virgins like one," I muttered. Francis smirked.

"How cruel of you to say so. You break my heart," Francis replied and I rolled my eyes.

"But you aren't hungry now, aren't you?" I asked, getting back to the previous topic. Francis glanced at me and cocked his head to the side, regarding my curiously.

"How did you know that?" he asked me.

"I told you I had a theory. Your eyes. Your eyes are lighter when you aren't hungry and are darker when you are. Plus, you get irritatingly _ruder_ when you're hungry," I replied.

"How observant of you," Francis remarked. "You must pay lots of attention to me then."

"Of course I-" I froze, realizing what he meant. Francis smirked. "So you were hunting with Antonio last weekend, weren't you?" I asked, changing the subject quickly, feeling colour fill my cheeks.

"Oui, I was," Francis replied. "I would be easier for me to be around you if I wasn't ready to suck your blood every second," Francis added smoothly, flashing me a smile. "Of course, I spent my time worrying about how you might be in the way of an out of control truck and how I wouldn't be there to save you," he continued teasingly. "I think I drove Lovino crazier than usual," he added, sounding amused. "Those were a long three days for him – and everyone else."

"Three days? Didn't you get back today?" I asked, confused.

"No – we got back on Sunday," Francis replied.

"Why weren't you at school then?" I asked, surprised at how_ furious_ I felt. The amount of disappointment I endured – er, the amount of _not_ disappointment I endured! It was a travesty!

"The sun doesn't hurt me but… I can't go out in the sunlight where people can see me," Francis replied.

I frowned in confusion. "Why not?" I asked.

"That's for a later time. I'll show it to you sometime – if you're good," Francis purred. I scowled at him.

A silence fell upon us yet again, only it was far more comfortable than it was before.

"What were you thinking tonight?" Francis asked suddenly, breaking the silence. I stared at him as he took the exit off the highway and drove into town. There were more lights around and I could see some familiar places. We were almost home. I'm ashamed to admit I was disappointed by this.

"What?" I asked.

"When I found you. You looked like you were concentrating heavily on something," Francis explained.

"I was about to lunge at those bastards when you came," I admitted.

"You were going to fight them?" Francis asked sceptically.

"What? You don't think I could've taken them on?" I asked, feeling quite insulted.

"They _were_ a lot larger than you…" Francis said trailing off.

"I used to get into fights – and _win_ – all the time," I replied haughtily. "The only reason you haven't seen me in action is because I'm a gentleman now."

"A gentleman who has a notoriously bad vocabulary and a horrible temper to match," Francis teased. I flushed.

"Fuck you," I muttered, blushing as Francis laughed. "Are you going to be at school tomorrow?" I asked casually, trying to change the subject.

"Yes. I have a paper due tomorrow. I'll save you a seat beside me at lunch," Francis purred. My blush deepened and Francis laughed again.

Francis stopped in front of my house. I blinked, staring out the window. The lights downstairs were on, and I could see an outline of Albert sitting on the couch, watching TV. My truck was in the driveway and it all felt so insanely _normal_ it was like everything that had just occurred was just a dream. I heard the click of the door's lock opening and jumped slightly. Ignoring Francis's chuckle I got out, still feeling kind of dazed. A cool breeze blew past us and I shivered slightly. Remembering that I was still wearing Francis's jacket, I took it off, handing it to Francis as he got out from the car himself.

"Keep it – you don't have a jacket for tomorrow," Francis said, pushing it back to me.

"I'd rather not. Besides, my dad'll ask where I got this," I replied, pushing it back to him. I turned to walk away from him, walking towards the door. Hearing footsteps behind me, I frowned when I realized he was following me to do the door.

"Arthur?" Francis asked me as I pulled out my keys. I turned to stare at him.

"What?" I asked. Did Francis want to come in or something? Because there was no way I was letting that frog into my house.

"Will you promise me something?" he asked quietly, his voice more serious than it was before.

"Depends," I replied.

"Don't go into the woods alone," Francis said. I blinked at him.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because my family and I aren't the most dangerous things out there," Francis replied in a finite tone. I knew he wouldn't answer my questions if I asked. I nodded, feeling goosebumps on my arms from the dark look on his face. He smiled, the darkness leaving his face. "I'll see you tomorrow," Francis said.

"Whatever," I said nonchalantly, trying to turn away from him.

"Arthur?" Francis asked again. I turned back to him. Francis leaned in against me, his nose brushing against mine. I felt my knees going weak and my head started to spin. "Sleep well," he murmured, his minty breath blowing into my face. Chuckling over the look on my face, Francis walked away, got into his car and drove away into the night.

I stood on the porch, completely stunned for a good five minutes until I came to my senses. Blinking a few times I put the key into the lock and swung open the door, walking inside and feeling the warmth of the house hit me.

"Arthur?" Albert's voice called from the living room.

"Yeah," I replied, taking off my shoes and walking into the room. He was watching a football match with some earnest. I glanced at the screen briefly. I had no idea what teams were playing.

"You're home pretty early," Albert remarked. I glanced at the clock. It wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

"I am," I said in surprise. When I thought about everything that had occurred that night, it felt much longer.

"Did you boys have fun?" Albert asked. I nodded absently. "Did Kiku and Peter by any chance convince you to go to the dance? You don't have to ask a girl out, you know. You might meet someone there that you might like a lot," he asked. I blushed. Albert still thought I liked girls.

"Er – no, they didn't," I said. "I'm gonna go call Peter now," I said, turning away. I needed to tell him to bring my jacket tomorrow.

"Weren't you just with him?" Albert asked, looking confused. I laughed awkwardly.

"Uh yeah I was but I left my jacket in his car so I'm just going to tell him to bring it to school," I said, walking away before Albert could ask me anything else.

The moment I reached the phone, it rang. Staring in surprise at it for a few seconds, I regained my senses and pulled the phone off the hook.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Arthur?" I blinked. How eerie. It was Peter.

"Oh yeah. I was just going to call you anyways."

"You got home? Good – Kiku was worried the entire trip home."

"Yeah. Can you bring my jacket to class tomorrow? I think I left it in your car."

"Sure. Tell me what happened!" Peter demanded.

"Uh sure. In class," I replied hesitantly, knowing fully well that anything I told Peter would be relayed to Michelle.

"Oh is your dad there?" Peter asked, cluing in.

"Yeah."

"Oh ok then. I guess I'll see you tomorrow or something," Peter said. I could practically hear the impatience in his voice.

"Bye," I said, hanging up.

I walked upstairs towards the washroom for a shower, stopping by my room to grab my towel. The shower was warmer than I would've liked but I welcomed the heat. I didn't realize I was so cold. I shuddered involuntarily for a few minutes before turning the hot water tap, making the water even hotter. I stood in the shower, too exhausted to move or really do anything and I stayed there until the hot water ran out.

I stumbled out and dried myself blankly, walking back to my room with a towel safely around my waist. I dressed and climbed into bed, my muscles aching. The bed was comforting and my sore body welcomed the soft mattress.

My mind began to swirl with everything that had happened. I fought at first to repress them but finally gave in, accepting the conclusion that I had been denying to myself for the past few days.

About four things I was absolutely positive. First, Francis was a vampire. Second, there was a part of him that wanted me – though I didn't know whether it was romantically… or sexually. Third, there was a part of me that wanted him as well, though again; I didn't know which one it was. And fourth, coming out to my father was going to be more difficult than I thought.

* * *

**A/N: Ahhh! I'm horrible, aren't I? How long has it been since I last updated? xD Sorry for all of that - school got in the way, these damn chapters are so long and I was trying to concentrate on finishing another one of my stories, _Rent_ - I finished today! Check it out if you want - it has FrUK too ;D **

**The last part is my favourite. It was one of the first things I thought of when I first decided to write this story. **

**Review, por favor? Or else Francis won't answer your questions. Lolwut? I need better...what's the word? Catch phrases? I dont even know. Just review, please! :D**


	13. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve:

In the morning, it was very easy for me to believe that everything that had happened was just a dream. I was surprised at how I didn't want that to be the case.

When I woke up it was insanely foggy and dark. I suppose that Francis had no reason to skip today, ha. As I dressed in my warmest clothes, it hit me that I couldn't find my jacket anywhere. That meant that I _did_ in fact leave it in Peter's car and that everything that happened was not a dream.

Going downstairs, it hit me that I was running later than usual – Albert was already gone and it was almost 8. Grabbing an apple, I rushed outside, planning on eating it as I drove.

It was so foggy outside that I had walked a few feet down the driveway before realizing that there was another car there. A red Enzo. My stomach lurched and I blinked at the driver in slight confusion.

"Would you like a ride to school today?" Francis whispered into my ear. I jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"How did you get here?" I stammered, feeling the colour rise to my cheeks.

"I drove here," Francis replied teasingly. That wasn't what I meant.

"Never mind," I muttered. "I'll take your offer, thanks," I added, walking towards Francis's car. I didn't think I would be able to see more than three feet of me while driving. Maybe vampires have super-sight or something.

On the seat Francis's light green jacket was slung over. I looked at it and then back at Francis as we both got in.

"I brought this for you so you wouldn't get sick," Francis said, motioning for me to put it on. Francis himself wasn't even wearing a jacket. He was wearing a light blue shirt that clung to his body and showed off muscles that I had doubted were even there. I gulped and looked away, my cheeks flaming.

"I'm not delicate," I replied and kept the jacket on my lap, refusing to wear it. Francis sighed and rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else. He drove in silence, focusing his attention on the road rather than on me. I stared out the window. I could feel goosebumps on my arms as the cool air finally got to me, but I still refused to put on his jacket. Damn my stubbornness.

"You're not going to ask me any questions today?" Francis asked as we neared the school.

"Do they bother you?" I asked him.

"No. Though your reactions worry me just a tad," Francis added as he pulled into the school's parking lot. As we passed rows and rows of cars, something hit me.

"Where's the rest of the family?" I asked curiously, wondering what had happened to the other boys.

"Lovino drove them. Perhaps it wasn't the best idea – he drives faster than me," Francis joked. "I can hear Ludwig yelling at me now." We passed an impressive looking car. My jaw dropped. "That's Lovino's car," Francis said. "Isn't it the most inconspicuous car ever?" he joked.

"Is that…?" I breathed out.

"A Bugatti Veyron, yes," Francis answered. "A beauty, isn't she?" he asked. I nodded mechanically.

"Why does Lovino come with you guys when he has _that_ to drive?" I asked as we drove further from it to an empty parking space. Francis shrugged.

"We're trying to keep normal," Francis replied.

"You don't do a good job of it," I remarked and Francis laughed.

As we walked towards the building, we saw Peter standing underneath the roof's overhang. He was holding my jacket. He may be a brat, but at least he has his moments.

"Thanks," I said with appreciation as I took my jacket from him.

"Bonjour," Francis purred and Peter's eyes widened as Francis Paye spoke to him _personally_ for the first time.

"H-h-hi," Peter said breathlessly. Again, I wondered what happened to his feelings for Michelle as Peter stared at Francis with his jaw open.

"We have to go now," I said, rolling my eyes. Francis nodded at Peter and followed me away, chuckling for reasons I didn't know of.

"Jealous, are we?" he teased. Oh, _that's _what he found funny.

"Don't think so highly of yourself. Your head's big enough as it is," I hissed.

"Ah but that's not the only big thing I have, is it~" he sang out and I blushed angrily, speeding up to get away from him. Francis caught up to me, laughing all the while. "What are you going to tell Peter in class?" he asked me curiously after a pause.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, looking confused.

"Peter's waiting to ambush you in class. He wants to know if we're secretly dating and how you feel about me so he can tell someone named Michelle…" Francis said, frowning a little in confusion. It hit me that Francis couldn't see pixies. How ironic – he was a mythical creature, and he couldn't even see his fellows.

"What am I supposed to tell him?" I muttered to myself irritably.

"Well you could say yes to the first question," Francis purred into my ear. I stumbled away from him blushing as he laughed. "As for the second one…" he smirked. "Well, I'll be listening to hear your response," he whispered, tracing my lips with a finger before sauntering away.

"I'll tell him how I much I hate you!" I shouted in his direction, my face heating up.

"I'll see you at lunch, mon cher!" he called out with a flirtatious smirk. A few passing students stopped to stare at me and I ran off to my class, feeling embarrassed and slightly dazed.

As the class began to start, I attempted to ignore the glances Peter kept shooting at me. I concentrated on our teacher's droning voice and wrote everything down. I could tell Peter was losing patience with me, but I didn't really care.

"Pssst," he hissed at me finally. I pretended not to hear him and continued taking notes. "Arthur!" I scratched my nose and continued to listen to the teacher's every word. I felt a stabbing pain in my side.

"What the fuck was that for?" I hissed angrily, rubbing my side and glaring at him. Peter frowned.

"You weren't listening to me," he replied. "If you actually listened I wouldn't have had to poke you," Peter continued smugly.

"Well I'm listening now, you wanker," I growled. His poke had really hurt.

"What happened after me and Kiku left?" he asked eagerly.

"We had dinner and he drove me home," I answered.

"But how did you get home so fast?" he asked, frowning slightly.

"Paye drives like a maniac."

"Was it a date?" Peter demanded and I was caught off-guard.

"A date?" I sputtered, feeling horrified. "No! We met there by chance," I said.

"He picked you up for school today, didn't he?" he asked.

"What's with all the questions?" I asked back.

"I want to know!" Peter whined. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes."

"Do you like him?" Peter probed. I glared at him.

"Absolutely not," I lied haughtily. Peter looked sceptical.

"You sure about that?" he asked.

"Very," I said.

"Does he like you?" Peter asked.

"How would I know that? He's so damn cryptic about everything – I wish he would just tell me without all those stupid riddles," I blurted out before I could stop myself.

The teacher called upon Peter to answer a question and distracted him from any further conversation, leaving me to wonder why I had said that.

The class flew by in a blur. I practically ran out of the class for maths before Peter could ask me anymore questions.

"Hey Arthur!" Michelle greeted as she flounced into the room, bumping into someone in her haste to sit beside me. I always wondered what people who couldn't see pixies thought when they were bumped into by something they couldn't see.

"Hullo," I replied, noting the look in her eyes and already guessing what she was going to tell me.

"Peter says that you and Francis are secretly dating," she said, confirming my suspicions.

"We're doing nothing of the sort," I assured her. She nodded, beaming.

"I knew that!" she chirped cheerfully. "But you don't like him that way… right?" she asked, her expression darkening. I'm not ashamed to say that I was almost terrified at the look in her eyes.

"Of course not!" I said quickly. "I'd never like him that way!" Michelle nodded, pleased with my answer. "Did Peter give you your present yet?" I asked hastily, trying to change the subject.

"Not yet! I wish he'd give it soon – I want to know what it is!" Michelle responded, pouting. "Do you know what it is?" she asked eagerly. I nodded. "Oooh – tell me!" she begged.

That's how our maths class was spent, basically – Michelle begging me to give her some hint as to what Peter's gift was and me giving her vague hints while partially ignoring her.

In what seemed like minutes, the bell rang. I leapt to my feet and shoved my books into my bag before realizing that Francis had mentioned eating with him. Damn it.

"You're not going to eat with us are you?" Michelle asked curiously as we exited the classroom.

"Arthur!" a horribly familiar voice cried out. I felt an arm wrap around my waist and I yelped as Francis began to tug me away, not seeing Michelle [and the sudden dark look on her face]. I mouthed out an apology to her before attempting to push away from Francis, noticing peoples' stares and feeling my dignity leave with each step.

"Let go of me," I hissed angrily, reaching up to tug at Francis's hair, knowing he would let go the moment I did. Francis stopped me with his free arm, smirking at me and not letting go.

"Why would I want to do that?" Francis asked as he led me into the cafeteria. I could feel the stares of our fellow peers as he led me to a small empty table. The moment he let me go, I sat down on the chair furthest away from him. Francis rolled his eyes at my reaction and I glared back at him.

We sat there in silence, neither of us sure of what to say to each other. I distracted myself by fiddling with my jacket's zipper – it seemed to be stuck. From my peripheral vision I could see Francis watching me curiously. I decided to ignore that.

"Where's your 'food'?" Francis asked me finally.

"I have to buy it," I replied, not looking up. I heard a noise and looked up to see Francis walking away from me, towards a nearby counter. I watched as Francis began to pile food onto a tray before walking back to our table. "I can't eat all of that," I said, motioning to the large amount of food.

"Of course you can't – you're too scrawny to be able to finish this," Francis said and I growled at his smirk. "Half of this is for me."

That confused me. I was always under the impression that vampires couldn't eat human food. "Are you actually going to eat this?" I asked as I took a slice of pizza and bit into it. It tasted like cardboard, but I didn't really mind.

"No, of course not. It's merely for the façade," Francis replied, picking up an apple and rubbing the shiny surface with his thumb.

"Could you eat this food?" I asked. "Or would it just poison you?"

Francis didn't reply; rather, he bit into the apple, frowning as he chewed. Francis swallowed, and promptly grimaced. "It's like eating dirt," he admitted. "It wouldn't kill you but it tastes disgusting."

"I ate dirt once – it didn't taste bad," I admitted. Francis rolled his eyes.

"But that is because your taste buds are hopelessly beyond compare from all the garbage you consume on a daily basis," Francis replied and I glared at him. "Do you really wish I wouldn't be as cryptic I am with you?" he asked suddenly and I blinked at the sudden change in subject.

"W-well I would like to not have to decipher everything and be given it straight to me," I stammered, not liking the intense look in his eyes [or rather, liking it a bit _too_ much].

"I think I care about you more than I should," Francis murmured, reaching out and stroking my cheek. My body shuddered at instinct from his deathly cold hands. Francis pulled back, smiling slightly and I felt almost dizzy. "Am I dazzling you?" he asked curiously. I flushed and shook my head, trying to clear my head.

"Of course not," I stammered and Francis laughed in amusement.

"You know, you make it hard for me to leave you," Francis remarked lightly. I swallowed thickly.

"You want to leave?" I asked, wondering why I suddenly felt sad from that remark.

"I _should_ leave… but I don't want to," Francis admitted. "Besides, taking care of you is turning into a full-time responsibility," he teased and I blushed, frowning.

"I can take care of myself," I grumbled.

"Yet I've saved you – how many times has it been now? 3? 4?" Francis teased and my blush grew. "I have a question for you – why are you planning on going to Liverpool? Do you really need to get out or was it just an excuse so you wouldn't have to reject Taylor?" Francis asked.

I grimaced at the memory. "I haven't forgiven you for that, you know," I reminded him. "The idiot's convinced that we're going to prom as a couple."

"You two would make a cute couple, non?" Francis teased and I threw a balled up napkin at him. Francis dodged it easily. "You do realize that he would've still found a way to ask it – regardless of if I helped him or not?" Francis prompted. "I really just wanted to see the expression on your face when he asked," Francis added with a chuckle. "So were you serious about going to Liverpool?" he asked again.

"Yes, I was," I asked, shrugging.

"Would it be alright if we did something different?" he asked. I didn't miss the obvious implication that he was still intent on accompanying me to Liverpool. I didn't like the fact that it pleased me.

"Depends. What is it?" I asked.

"Well it's going to be a sunny day that day so I'll have to spend my time away from the public eye," Francis said, sounding remorseful. I rolled my eyes.

"The public eye would be better off without having to see you," I taunted and Francis brushed the insult away with a small carefree flick of his hand.

"Anyways, there is a place I frequent on days like those and it's quite peaceful – I think you might like it," Francis said.

"As long as it's not some sort of gay bar, I'll come," I agreed. Francis rolled his eyes but nodded.

"Good – I shudder to picture you in Liverpool, alone and completely helpless without me," Francis said.

"I can take care of myself – I lived in London you know," I said, feeling irked. "But small thing – can I drive?" I asked.

"Why?" Francis asked, blinking.

"Because I told Albert that I was going alone so he'd wonder where I was going without my truck and besides – you cross the speed limit way to much to be considered safe," I told him.

"Shouldn't you tell Albert that you were going with me?" Francis asked, looking confused.

"Albert would ask too many questions and then call my mum and _then_ there would be no way of me going out at all," I replied. Francis frowned.

"I think you should tell him," Francis said, a dark undertone to his voice that I didn't quite understand.

"Why? Will you rape and murder me then leave my body somewhere?" I joked lightly. Francis didn't smile.

"I could," he whispered and I shuddered involuntarily. "Still think you shouldn't tell your father where you're going and with who?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied after a pause. Francis sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear.

"You won't listen to reason?" he asked and I shook my head. He looked away in frustration and I looked away from him as well. The logical part in me seemed to be agreeing with Francis – _don't go anywhere with that frog without telling Albert! That way if he tries anything, Albert could come with his guns and shoot him down!_ But the other part of me kept disagreeing with it and telling me that I would be fine with Francis and nothing bad would happen and that besides, guns wouldn't hurt him anyways…

It was then I noticed Feliciano Paye staring at me. I blinked in surprised and he blinked back. He waved slightly and I glanced at the other boys, only to see them staring at Francis intensely. I turned back to him, asking the first thing that came to mind.

"Why did you and Antonio go to Bear Woods?" I asked him curiously. "Albert said it was an awful place for camping because of reports of bears."

Francis's eyebrow rose and he stared at me. I stared back in confusion until it finally hit me.

"Y-you hunt the _bears_?" I asked, feeling surprised. Somehow, I couldn't picture the elegant-looking Francis leaping at a bear and attacking it. Francis nodded. "But I thought there were no bears in England," I said, trying to grasp this new piece of knowledge.

Francis shrugged. "There are, but only a small number of people know it. A good thing too or else the remaining ones would be sent to zoos and wouldn't be able to reproduce and Antonio and I would have to travel all the way to Spain to find some sort of animal big enough to fight – bulls," he supplied for the mystified look on my face.

"You guys really drink bear blood?" I asked. Sure, Alfred had mentioned that the Paye family hunted animals rather than humans…but I was still having trouble realizing it.

"Antonio really likes bear blood – it's his favourite," Francis said. I snuck a peek at the Paye table. Antonio seemed like a smiling, cheerful man. I couldn't picture him attacking a bear viciously… at all.

"What's your favourite?" I asked him, taking another bite of my now cold pizza.

"Puma," Francis answered easily and I nearly choked in surprised.

"There are no pumas here," I sputtered. "Those were all rumours!"

Francis shrugged. "To the general public, yes – they are. But again, only a small number of people know they actually do exist," he replied. "We don't hunt the bears and pumas _too_ much though – the last thing we need is for a rare animal to become extinct thanks to us so we do sometimes for deer and such. But there's no fun in that, is there?" he asked.

"Of course there isn't," I replied sarcastically and he laughed good naturedly. "How do you hunt bears?" I asked him curiously. "With weapons?"

"Yes, but not the type you're thinking of," Francis said with a grin, showing all his teeth, which looked eerily pointy in the light. "Picture a bear attack that you would see on the Discovery Channel, and that's pretty much how Antonio is when hunting."

I glanced back at Antonio again. He was hugging Lovino Vargas, a huge smile plastered on his face. His arm flexed a little and I suddenly noticed the muscles in his arms. The older boy suddenly intimidated me a _lot_. Francis chuckled at the look on my face.

"Are you like a bear too – when you hunt?" I asked, frowning at the mental image in my head of Francis attacking things like a bear.

"Like a cougar – or so they tell me. Maybe it's according to our preferences," Francis suggested.

"Would I ever be able to see that?" I asked curiously. As much as I hated blood and gore, a part of me really wanted to see Francis in action.

Francis's eyes widened. "Non!" he cried out, earning us a few stares from nearby tables. "Never!"

"Too dangerous?" I asked. "Or too scary?"

"Maybe a mix of both," Francis said. "I'll explain later," he continued, standing up. "We're going to be late."

I looked around, surprised to see that the cafeteria was already beginning to clear out. Had I missed the bell ring? How was that even possible? I leapt to my feet, taking one last bite out of the pizza before throwing it out, picking up my bag and slinging it onto my shoulder.

"Later then," I agreed as I followed him out. I wouldn't forget.

* * *

**A/N: Iunno, is this what you would call a filler chapter? Wheee, I'm excited~~ we're getting closer and closer to the Paye boys' proper appearance - complete with speaking lines and everything! **

**Reviewing helps me write faster...hint, hint. ;D**


	14. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen:

People stared when we walked into history together. I noticed that Francis no longer tried keeping his chair as far away from mine as he could; in fact, his chair was now uncomfortably close to mine. I found myself inching away from him as Mr. Provence started flicking off lights.

"Today we will be watching a movie about the 100 years war," he stated in his monotonous voice. I didn't really catch the rest of what he was saying – I was too busy trying to make sure the stupid frog's arm didn't wrap around my waist like he was trying so hard to do. The last light was turned off and suddenly the room went dark.

It was that moment that Francis chose to whisper in my ear, "You smell so nice." A shiver went down my spine as the old TV at the front of the room flickered on. I turned to Francis so I could push him away from me and saw myself reflected in his light blue eyes. Swallowing thickly, pushed him as hard as I could. Francis grinned and leaned in again, enveloping me in his arms.

"Don't you think you're getting too close?" I hissed at him, grabbing at his hair and tugging it. Francis winced but didn't pull back, nuzzling me lightly. My face turned a bright red as I slapped his arm…which turned out not to be the smartest thing I've ever done. Francis's skin seemed to be rock solid… like marble. As I nursed my hurt hand, Francis retracted his hold on me.

"I'm sorry," Francis said quietly, his voice full of mirth. I flipped him the bird with my unhurt hand and began to ignore him. "That wasn't smart of me, was it?" he continued as I started to start at the TV screen fixatedly. "That was quite dangerous for you, I apologize," he added in a more serious voice.

"You better be serious," I muttered back, forgetting my plan on ignoring him.

"I am," Francis promised. We fell into a silence, both of us now actually watching the movie. Time to time I did happen to glance at Francis, only to see him staring back at me, a strange look in his eyes. I'm not quite sure if I liked the look or was terrified of it.

It was a relief when the period finally ended and we were allowed to go. As the students around us lazily got up for their final period classes, Francis followed me to the parking lot to drop me off at home.

"Don't you have a fifth period class?" I asked him as we passed by Lovino's Bugatti Veyron.

"Oui – gym," Francis replied airily.

"And you skip it everyday?" I asked.

"Oui," Francis said with a smirk.

"How are you even passing that course if you don't even attend the class?" I asked incredulously as Francis unlocked his car, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling on my seatbelt, slightly annoyed at how familiar his car felt to me.

Francis shot me a winning smile. "Because the teacher is female," he replied with an airy laugh. I rolled my eyes as Francis shot out of the parking lot.

We fell into a comfortable silence as Francis fiddled with the radio with one hand, the speedometer perpetually over a hundred.

"Is it later yet?" I asked finally. Francis frowned, pausing in his song searching to stare at me. He sighed.

"I suppose so," he said reluctantly. I waited for him to answer. He continued to drive, both hands on the steering wheel and his eyes fixatedly staring out the windshield. Francis stopped the car a few minutes later; we had reached my house.

I didn't get out of the seat – Francis had yet to answer my question. Francis seemed to be contemplating something, leaning against seat and staring out the windshield at the clouds overhead.

"When we hunt," Francis began suddenly as my eyes were beginning to droop [from a mixture of exhaustion and boredom], "it's like we lose all of our human instincts. We become more primal… more monstrous. The fact that I find it hard to control myself sometimes in my normal state is scary enough…if you were ever there… I'd probably rip you apart without a second glance. And not the way I want to either," he added teasingly, eyeing my clothes lecherously. I was sorely tempted to punch him, but didn't want a repeat of earlier with my hand.

"I see," I said finally, nodding. I unbuckled the seatbelt and opened the door, the cold gust of wind hitting my face.

"Oh and Arthur?" Francis called out as I made a move to close the door. "Tomorrow's my turn."

"For what?" I asked in confusion.

"To ask _you_ questions," he replied and with that, he drove away, a smirk growing on his face. I rolled my eyes and walked into the house. I tried to finish my homework early so I could get to sleep and rest my body properly. Unfortunately, my subconscious had other ideas. My dreams were plagued with Francis and I was tossing and turning all night, waking up regularly. It wasn't until at least three in the morning when I finally did drift into a deep sleep, not waking up until my alarm clock sounded at seven.

The next morning was just as cold as the day before. I dressed in my warmest clothes, wishing I could be somewhere warmer than cold, dreary St. Helens. I somehow managed to wake up early, catching Albert sipping from his tea while reading the local newspaper when I went downstairs for breakfast.

"I made eggs," he said with a little motion of his head, his eyes never leaving the print. I nodded and helped myself to some, sitting across from him at the small table.

"So… are you planning on going to Liverpool this Saturday?" he asked me, looking up and staring me in the eye.

"Of course," I said in a casual tone, directing my attention to the eggs on my plate.

"You can't even make it to the dance?" he asked.

"I'm not going to the dance, dad – they aren't my thing," I informed him.

"Well did you ask anyone?" he asked.

"It was girl's choice," I lied half-heartedly. Albert gave me a sympathetic look and I realized the implications of my lie. I turned a deep red and looked away. Albert patted my back encouragingly.

"Don't worry, one of these days a girl will like you for who you are," he said and my stomach knotted uncomfortably. I wondered what Albert's reaction would be when I told him I didn't even like girls in general.

Albert left for work a few minutes later, leaving me to clear up and clean the dishes before getting my things and driving off to school. It wasn't very long after hearing Albert pull away from the driving that I heard another drive up. I didn't even have to check to see who it was. I left the house with my things and locked the door, Francis casually leaning against his car as he waited for me.

"Bonjour," Francis greeted me, his voice smooth and silky. He opened the passenger door for me. I rolled my eyes.

"Hello," I replied reluctantly, pushing past him to get into the car. He closed the door gently and walked around to get to the driver's seat before getting and driving out of the driveway. I saw him glance at me curiously before glancing back at the road. We drove in silence. I hoped that perhaps Francis had forgotten his plan of interrogating me and decided not to say anything that might make him remember.

"What's your favourite colour?" Francis asked suddenly. I frowned; he had remembered after all.

"Green," I replied, looking out of the window.

"Why green?" Francis asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Because green is the colour of nature and life and creativity," I replied. I snuck a glance at him, only to see that he was staring at me curiously.

"That's an interesting answer," Francis mused.

"What's yours?" I asked.

Francis chuckled. "Nope – not saying. Today's my turn, remember?" he reminded me.

By this time, Francis was already driving into the parking lot, circling it to find a space to park in.

"What was the last song you listened to?" Francis continued. I frowned – it had been a while since I last listened to music.

I listed the first song that off the top of my head. Francis stared at me before pressing the eject button on his radio, pulling out a CD and flashing it at me.

"You mean this?" he asked and I found it strange that we listened to the same music.

His interrogation continued when we saw each other again for lunch, asking me anything that he could think of. My jaw was beginning to hurt from talking so much – I had never talked so much about something in my life. And surprisingly, Francis was interested in everything I said – from how my favourite gemstone was [topaz] to my favourite flower [rose – Francis seemed to really like that answer…] to what my favourite type of cuisine was [British, obviously].

The only type Francis stopped asking me questions was when Mr. Provence turned off the lights to continue the movie we were watching in History. Francis didn't attempt to sexually assault me this time – that didn't stop me from feeling uncomfortable, though. It was as though my body decided to be a traitor to me; I found myself imagining Francis holding me and brushing his lips against my neck. A shiver went down my spine and I snuck a glance at Francis, only to see him staring at me like before. I turned my attention back to the TV but the uncomfortable urge wouldn't leave. I was extremely relieved when Mr. Provence turned the lights back on and the bell rung, signifying the end of class.

As we walked to his car so he could drive me home, Francis's questions became harder to answer. He pried into my private life, asking me what it was like back home in London, what my mother was like, why she left, what it was like living with my father, etc. We sat in his car for hours even after Francis arrived at my house, Francis refusing to let me leave before I finished answering all his questions.

I've never talked so much before – Francis leaned back in his chair, listening to me go on about the little backyard I had back in London that me and my mother used to spend hours working on in the summer. I tried to explain the scent of our Indian neighbours' cooking that would fill the air in the afternoon and the sound of our Australian landlord's dog barking at night – picking fights with the stray cat that liked to wander our street. Before long, the sky was beginning to darken and the air became chillier as evening came upon us.

I concluded my description on what my favourite book was, my mouth feeling worn out from the constant talking. Instead of asking me another question, Francis paused, looking alert.

"Are you done with the 20 million questions?" I asked him hopefully.

"Of course not – but your father will be coming home soon," Francis replied. I blinked.

"Albert!" I exclaimed, surprised that I had forgotten about my father despite the fact I had been telling Francis all about him not too long ago. "How late is it?" I asked, looking out the door and feeling horrified I let myself stay in a car with Francis until it was practically dark.

"It is twilight," Francis murmured thoughtfully, staring out of the window as well, smiling softly. "Such a romantic time, non? Lovers reuniting after a busy day full of stress, falling into each others' arms, kissing each other hello as they tell each other about their day…" he mused to himself.

"Oh please – stop with the bloody romantic nonsense. It's just early evening," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"But don't you think it's a romantic sight when the sun sets and the stars come out?" Francis prompted.

"The most murders happen in the evening," I answered. Francis frowned.

"You are so unromantic, Arthur," he sniffed. "Don't you like twilight?"

"Time of day, yes. Movie? No," I replied and he chuckled. Francis got out of the car and crossed to my side, opening the door before I could. I opened my mouth to make a snarky comment about not needing to have my door opened like a woman when I saw the suddenly stricken look on his face.

"Oh no," he murmured, moving away so I could get out of the car.

"What's wrong?" I asked, pulling my backpack onto my shoulders. A droplet hit my nose and I looked up to see rain beginning to fall steadily onto us. A flash of light hit us as another car parked itself along the side of the road in front of the house. Its headlights were too blinding for me to tell who it was.

"Another problem," Francis murmured, closing the door quickly and walking back to his side of the car. "Albert is nearly here – he's just around the corner," he said quickly before getting in. "I'll see you tomorrow," he added as an afterthought before driving away into the night.

"Hey Arthur!" a familiar voice called out from the driver side of the car. My eyes watered from the glare of the headlights as I tried to see who it was.

"Alfred?" I questioned. Just then, Albert's police car came driving up to us, his headlights illuminating the person who had called out my name.

Alfred was opening the passenger door, saying something to the man sitting in the passenger seat. He seemed to have the same shining blue eyes that Alfred had. They had Alfred's youthful twinkle, yet seemed to have more wisdom in them that most men his age don't have. There were wrinkles along the sides of his mouth, signifying a man who smiled a lot. He wasn't smiling as Albert got out of his car and grabbed me by the arm, pulling me towards the two. It had been many years since I had last seen George Jones but he still seemed the same as before. He was staring at me intently with those piercing blue eyes. There was shock in them…as well as fear. I swallowed thickly, not sure of what to do.

Francis had said that there was another problem.

George seemed to look worried for me as Albert and I approached the car. Did George manage to recognize Francis in the dark? Did he actually believe the legends that Alfred found so funny?

It was clear to me what the answer was, just by looking into George's eyes. Yes, he did.

* * *

**A/N: Dun dun dun. I totally love writing Artie and Francis with total UST in the back of their History classroom in the dark. Tis fun tiings, y'all. **

**Review?**


	15. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen:

"George!" Albert called out jubilantly, leaning against the car door to beam at the other man. I nodded to Alfred. "I'm going to have to pretend that I didn't see you driving, you know," he added sternly to Alfred.

Alfred laughed. "I got my licence back in America!" he replied with a beam.

"Of course," Albert said, rolling his eyes.

"Well I do have to get around somehow," George replied. His voice was surprisingly familiar to me; I felt significantly older hearing his voice again.

"Go open the door, will you?" Albert said to me, tossing his set of keys at me. I nodded and jogged towards the door, shaking the rain out of my hair and turning the lock to open the door. I stood in the doorway as I watched Albert and Alfred get George out of the car and into his wheelchair. I backed out of the way when the three of them approached, giving George room to wheel into the house and moving away from Alfred as he began to shake water off himself the way a dog would.

"This is a complete surprise!" Albert said, sounding pleased. "You could've called – I could've straightened the house or something!"

"It's been too long, I hope we're not coming at a bad time," George said, his eyes flickering towards me. I swallowed thickly and looked away.

"No, no you aren't," Albert reassured him. "Are you going to stay to watch the match?" he asked eagerly.

"I'm guessing that's what dad wanted to do anyways – our TV broke last week," Alfred answered, grinning.

George smirked. "And Al wanted to see Arthur again," he said, the tone of his voice implying something that made my stomach churn guiltily. As Alfred blushed and made a face, I wondered if I had been too convincing on the beach.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, wanting to escape George's gaze by excusing myself to go to the kitchen.

"Nah, we just ate," Alfred replied.

"Besides – the last thing we need is for you to poison them," Albert joked. I glared at him.

"So Arthur got your talent at cooking, did he?" George teased. I flashed my father a triumphant look before stalking into the kitchen to make sandwiches for myself.

"Who was that guy that dropped you off? He had a really sick car!" Alfred asked me as he followed me into the kitchen.

"Uh… Francis," I answered, opening the refrigerator to get the butter out.

Alfred made a face. "Francis who?" he asked curiously, following me all the while.

"Could you get me a plate?" I asked him, hoping to distract him.

"I don't know where the plates are," Alfred informed me.

"In that cupboard," I told him, pointing the cupboard with the plates in it. Alfred nodded and I turned back to the bread, buttering them lightly with a blunt knife.

"So…are ya gonna tell me who that Francis kid was?" Alfred asked me, handing me a plate.

I sighed. Alfred wasn't going to give up on asking me. "Francis Paye," I replied, looking away.

Alfred laughed, startling me; I hadn't expected that response. "That explains why my dad went all weird," he said, rolling his eyes. He looked sheepish.

"Oh right, your father doesn't like the Payes does he?" I remarked innocently.

"He's a superstitious old man," Alfred said. "It's so embarrassing sometimes."

"D'you think he'd say anything to Albert?" I asked him curiously, still trying to sound innocent. Alfred shrugged.

"Probably not – shit happened last time dad brought up the Payes," he told me. "Your dad didn't talk to him for weeks. Actually, I think this is first time they've actually hung out together again – I doubt my dad's gonna screw that up by bringing them up again," Alfred added and I felt a rush of relief. I wasn't quite sure of what Albert's reaction would be when he found out about Francis's and my…friendship.

Alfred and I spent the rest of the evening talking in the living room – or rather, Alfred talking _at_ me as I attempted to overhear our fathers' conversation. A part of me still worried about George saying something incriminating.

The cricket match ended an hour later, thank God.

"Are you and your friends gonna come back to Riverside soon?" Alfred asked hopefully as he and his father prepared to leave. I shrugged casually.

"I don't know – perhaps, weather permitting," I replied.

"Make sure you come back in time for the next game," Albert told George. George nodded, smiling.

"We'll be here. Have a good night." his eyes flickered to me and the smile faded. "You take care, Arthur," he said to be seriously. I gulped and nodded, forcing a smile at him.

I slept much better that night. I suppose I must've been too tired to dream, as I don't recall dreaming anything at all. The morning after was cloudy and foggy, yet I wasn't as upset by it as I normally would be.

"You're awfully chipper today," my father remarked when he heard me whistling as came downstairs. I shrugged.

"It's Friday," I told him and left it at that. Albert left a few minutes after; I waited until I couldn't hear his car driving away any more before stepping outside.

Francis was already there waiting for him, lounging in the driver seat, looking through the window at me. I didn't hesitate in getting into his car, and a part of me was horrified at how comfortable I now was around him.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked me the moment I put my seatbelt on. I scowled at him, cringing on the inside at how his casual grin made my heart skip – just a bit.

"Why do you want to know?" I shot at him. He laughed easily and turned the car on.

"You're always so much fun to rile up," he mused as we drove out of the driveway. I blushed and didn't say anything.

"I slept well," I muttered finally. "How was your night?" I asked.

"Why do you want to know?" Francis asked me in mock-horror. I glared at him. "I had a pleasant night," he continued, with an amused smile. The smile made me slightly uncomfortable; it was like he knew something that I didn't.

Before I could even ask him to specify, he launched into more questions. Evidently, he wasn't done interrogating me. This time he wanted to know more about my parents. He wanted to know my mother Victoria's pastimes, how she and Calvin met, what my father liked to do in his spare time, my mother's favourite colour – a part of me was starting to wonder if this was Francis's weird way of stalking me.

"How many relationships have you been?" he asked me. I blinked at the question.

"None," I answered. Francis looked surprised.

"Perhaps the eyebrows threw them off," he murmured to himself. I hit him with the textbook in my hands, not wanting to risk hitting him and breaking my hand. "Though they should've taken the time to know you, you're quite desirable you know," he purred at me. I glared at him and tried to ignore my increased heartbeat. "At least, to Taylor you are," he added and I hit him with the textbook again.

At this point we had reached the school and Francis was pulling into an empty parking space. "I should've let you drive today," he remarked with a slight frown.

"Why?" I asked him. "I thought you hated my truck."

"I do," he replied, "but I'm leaving with Feliciano after lunch."

I blinked. "Oh. I guess I can walk or something," I said with a shrug. Francis shook his head.

"Non I will not let you. We'll get your truck and leave it here for you," Francis told me.

"One problem – I don't have my keys with me," I replied.

Francis smirked. "Not a problem – your truck will be here and the key will be in the ignition," he told me.

"I doubt you'll find my keys," I warned him, remembering that I had left my keys under a pile of dirty laundry on my bedroom floor.

"I'm sure I will," he replied back. I rolled my eyes at him and didn't say anything else, getting out of the car with him. If Francis really wanted to delude himself into thinking he could find my car then so be it.

"Where are you and Feliciano going anyways?" I asked him as we made our way to the school.

"Hunting," Francis replied lightly. "If I'm going to let myself be alone with you tomorrow I should probably take precautions. Or you could cancel," he suggested, a darker look on his face. "That'd be the safest thing you could do."

"Maybe I don't want to," I blurted out before I could stop myself. Our eyes met and I stopped walking, finding myself breathless as I looked into his eyes.

It then hit me what I was doing. I blinked and looked away; regaining breath and feeling my face redden significantly. "I've already planned it out and everything – it'd be a waste to cancel it so last minute," I added quickly, praying that Francis wouldn't assume I still wanted to go because of him.

"Of course," Francis replied with a smirk.

"Why are you going with Feliciano?" I asked him, trying to change the subject. The smirk on Francis's face faded.

"Because he's the most supportive," Francis answered. I began to feel uneasy. It was then that the bell rang, forcing us to go our separate ways to class. Before I could even ask Francis my question, he had disappeared.

The morning went by quickly. I barely paid attention in class – I had the question I wanted to ask Francis in my head.

When the bell sounded to signify lunch, detaching myself from Michelle and Peter, I ran towards the cafeteria, where I found Francis already sitting at a table. He motioned to me and I walked towards him.

"So the rest don't like me?" I blurted out when I got to him. Francis stared at me in confusion for a few seconds before understanding and making a face.

"Antonio does," he said finally. "But Lovino doesn't want him near you at all," he continued. I frowned.

"Why not?" I asked, glancing at Francis's brothers, who were sitting at a table not too far away from us. They were talking freely amongst each other, smiles on Antonio and Feliciano's faces. I couldn't see Lovino's expression, as his back was to me. I was slightly relieved at that.

"He thinks there's something wrong with you, since I somehow manage to be so attracted to you," Francis said casually. I felt my cheeks heat up. "It's so strange, I always wonder about…" Francis began to say. I stopped listening as Lovino turned around, looking directly at me with a hateful glare. I blanched, wanting to look away but being able to escape his dark, cold eyes. Francis stopped talking, noticing Lovino. He frowned darkly and Antonio glanced at us, throwing an arm around Lovino and pulling him back to the discussion. Lovino gave me one last look before turning away, swatting at Antonio's hand irritably. I took a deep breath in and glanced at Francis, who was watching me with some worry.

"So they really hate me, don't they?" I said, trying to lighten the mood. Francis smiled at me sadly.

"Lovino doesn't hate you…I don't think – he's just worried that if…_this_…goes wrong…what it'll happen to our family," Francis said, looking away.

"Goes wrong?" I asked. Francis gave me a significant look. The uneasy feeling returned. "Oh," I said quietly. "Do you have to leave now?" I asked. Francis shrugged.

"I guess so. At least I don't have to endure that wretched movie in History," Francis replied.

I blinked. And then blinked again. Somehow, as I was blinking, Feliciano Paye had managed to get from where he was sitting to Francis's shoulder.

"Hello Feliciano," Francis said, still looking at me. I wasn't surprised that he knew Feliciano was already there.

"Ve~ hi Francis!" he replied back enthusiastically. I blinked again in surprise. For some reason, I was expecting Feliciano to be a quiet, delicate sort of boy – considering how small and pixie-like he was. I didn't expect him to be so…_loud_. Loud, yes, but also very musical. I wondered how Francis and Feliciano could make their voices so beautiful and if the others' voices were like that too.

Francis chuckled at the look on my face. "Feliciano, Arthur – Arthur, Feliciano," he introduced us, gesturing at both of us casually.

"Hi Arthur! Francis has told us so much about you!" Feliciano said enthusiastically. "I would hug you but Francis said you don't like hugs and Ludwig said that that wouldn't be very smart and Ludwig's very very smart and I don't want to do things that aren't smart because Ludwig would get mad and then-"

"Pleased to meet you," I broke in, feeling slightly dazed as Feliciano rambled on about Ludwig being mad at him. My eyes flicked over to the Paye table and I noticed Ludwig grimacing as Antonio patted his shoulder, laughing.

"…and then Lovi would yell at Ludwig for yelling at me and then Antonio would have to kiss him to make him stop yelling and then mama Elizaveta would start taking pictures and – oh! Are you ready?" Feliciano asked, looking at Francis.

"I'll meet you in the car," Francis replied, smirking at me. Feliciano nodded and skipped off. I was amazed at how graceful the other boy was – it was like Feliciano was floating on air.

"He's not quite what I expected," I said once Feliciano was out of view. Francis laughed.

"He never is," Francis replied.

"So you're going to go now, aren't you?" I asked. Francis nodded, standing up. "Should I say 'have fun' or is that the wrong thing to say?" I asked.

"Non – it works as well," he told me. "You should be safe – the last thing I need is for you to fall into a washing machine without me being there to save you," he added with a smirk.

I frowned. "I don't need you to save me," I informed Francis. My frown grew at his all-knowing smirk.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," he said to me before turning and walking away.

History was boring without Francis. The fact that I was bored without him irritated me immensely. I tried to find ways to keep myself watching the movie playing at the front of the class [I had a morbid feeling that all of the topics that were being covered in the movie were going to end up as test questions] but found myself wondering what Feliciano and Francis were probably doing. I wondered if they managed to get my truck to the school and highly doubted it. I decided to just hang around school for an extra hour and get Peter to drop me off rather than walk – it looked like it was going to rain outside.

Out of curiosity, when the bell rang, I decided to take a chance and see whether or not Feliciano and Francis managed to find my keys. I was surprised with the sight of my truck parked near the doors, my key indeed in the ignition. I stared at my truck for a few seconds before getting into the driver's seat and pulling on my seatbelt. I noticed a note attached to the steering wheel. I didn't recognize the handwriting, but its flowy cursive script made me think of Francis. There were only two words written on the note.

_Be safe_.

The rest of my evening was spent with me trying to find ways to distract myself from thinking about the next day. _Trying_ being the operative word. I fell into a fitful sleep, rolling around constantly and not feeling tired in the least. It wasn't until it was midnight that I remembered an old CD player of Albert's that I had found in my room and used it to listen to Chopin's nocturnes. The smooth melodies ended up doing the trick and I slipped into a dreamless sleep.

I awoke fairly later that I normally would on a school day. My eyes flew open as I realized that Francis was probably waiting outside for me. I ran towards the washroom, attempting to do the very clichéd brushing my hair while brushing my teeth, trying to get ready quickly so Francis wouldn't complain. I had a momentary fashion crisis until I remembered that I wasn't a girl and didn't need to bother about these things so I grabbed a clean sweater vest and pulled on my favourite jeans. I bolted downstairs and was busy stuffing my face with a bagel when I heard a faint knocking at the door. I ran to the door, bagel still in my mouth.

"Bonjour," Francis said cheerfully. He stared at my choice in clothes, and I felt my cheeks heat up as he stared at my…lower regions for longer than he really should've. "You have an interesting style," he said finally, eyes flickering back to me.

"Better than your girly style," I replied, reaching back behind me and grabbing my keys. I swallowed the rest of my bagel and slid my shoes on, locking the door behind me as I went outside.

The sky was a clear blue with thin wispy clouds blocking the sun from hitting us. I could see Francis's look of dismay as he waited for me to climb into the driver's seat of my truck and manually unlock the passenger door. I smirked, pleased with how miserable Francis was at travelling in my truck.

"Where to?" I asked when Francis finally pulled on his seatbelt, wrinkling his nose at how old it looked.

"Start off by going west," he told me. I turned the ignition and we set off, Francis already clicking his tongue and pouting at how slow my truck was in comparison to his Enzo. I decided to not let his mood hinder my surprisingly cheerful mood. I contemplated why I was feeling so happy as I half-listened to Francis's directions.

We fell into a comfortable silence, the only sounds being from the engine of my truck, Francis's occasional instructions and the radio that was playing quietly. I saw Francis glance at the radio from time to time and I put the volume up. Francis hummed happily to himself and went back to looking out the window. I was happy to let him do this; it let me concentrate on driving more, not having to worry about Francis staring at me and making me feel lightheaded. It surprised me yet again at how comfortable I was around Francis – despite disliking him intensely. I think. I knew I did happen to have _some_ feelings towards the irritating Frenchman [I had figured that out not too long ago], but I was still quite sure that I hated him. Thinking about my feelings towards Francis always made me confused, and I focused on driving rather than on the person sitting next to me.

"All you have to do now is drive until the pavement ends," Francis said suddenly, an hour into our drive. I glanced at him; he was looking right at me.

"What are we going to do once the pavement ends?" I asked.

"We hike," Francis replied, turning back to the window. The moment I knew Francis couldn't see my face, my expression twisted into a look of horror. I always hated hiking – I was never very good at it. I always knew Albert was a bit disappointed in this since he knew I must've gotten it from my mum. I glanced at my tennis shoes and wondered how I was going to fare in a forest with no hiking trails.

When the road ended, leaving us with a thin foot trail, I parked on the narrow shoulder and got out, needing to stretch after sitting for at least two hours. The sun had risen higher, and I began to feel a tad warmer. I tugged at my collar and wondered if it would've been smarter to just wear a short sleeved shirt rather than a short sleeved sweater vest.

Francis hopped out of the passenger's seat, pulling off the light sweater he had been wearing. I turned to him to ask where we were going in the forest when my brain stopped thinking completely.

Francis had unbuttoned the shirt he had been wearing underneath his sweater.

He had abs.

Glorious, chiselled abs.

I suddenly realized how gay I really was. Flushing and looking away, I tried to distract myself with morbid thoughts of dead puppies, old people and dirt.

"Are you coming or not, Arthur?" Francis called out, his voice sounding farther away than it should. I tore my eyes from the clouds above and stared at him; he was already heading towards the forest…away from the trail.

"So we aren't going by trail?" I asked, jogging to catch up to him.

"Of course not," Francis replied. I frowned. This was going to be very difficult.

We began our hike into the forest with me already falling face first after tripping over a root. Francis didn't hold back his laughter as he helped me up, his cold skin brushing against mine and making my heart thump faster and louder than I would prefer. It felt like we were walking for hours – my calves were beginning to burn and I felt like I was gaining blisters on every toe.

"When are we going to stop?" I demanded as Francis led us around another fallen tree.

"Soon," he promised. "Can you see the brightness overhead?" he asked me. I frowned.

"What brightness?" I asked.

"I suppose it's too soon for your eyes," Francis remarked and I scowled.

"I can see perfectly well, thank you very much," I told him.

"That's a good thing – if you were to get glasses then you would look completely like an old man," Francis teased. I let out a noise of outrage.

"What do you mean by _that_?" I challenged. Francis laughed as I began to yell at him, his laughter echoing throughout the forest.

We continued to walk through the forest. Somehow, I found myself leading Francis towards the small patch of brightness – that I could now see – that was getting bigger and bigger as we neared. I had to constantly glance over my shoulder to make sure Francis was still following me, he was so silent. I wouldn't put it past the frog to leave me in a forest and run off.

I suddenly froze, gasping. We had reached the small patch of brightness in the middle of forest; it was a meadow. The most extraordinary meadow I've ever seen in my life. The meadow was very small and practically perfectly circular. There were wildflowers here and there, and I could faintly hear the sounds of a stream flowing by.

I whirled around to ask Francis how he had found such a beautiful place. He wasn't there. I felt an instant stab of panic, cursing the frog for actually leaving me in the middle of nowhere [a _pretty_ middle of nowhere, but a middle of nowhere all the same]. I then noticed him lurking beneath the shadows of the trees, watching me expectantly. I remembered what Francis had said a few days ago about showing me what happens when he steps out into the sun. I nodded at him and waited.

Francis smiled at me and stepped out into the bright glow of the sun above us.

My jaw dropped.

I _really_ wasn't expecting that.

* * *

**A/N: Heh. Heh. **

**Feliciano finally appeared! *dances around in happiness* There's like, two more chapters until the rest of the family is introduced methinks. **

**Review for the next chapter!**


	16. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen:

He sparkled.

Yes, sparkled.

It was as though he had taken a bath in glitter supplies.

_He sparkled._

I could suddenly see why he was gay.

Francis walked towards me, his sparklyness nearly blinding me – and sat down, his _gloriously chiselled_ abs glistening at me, almost begging me to touch them, stroke them – kiss the

Ahem.

I walked towards him, sitting cross-legged in front of him and watching him with some fascination. I honestly had no ideas that vampires sparkled and frankly, a part of me was disappointed. I was kind of hoping that Francis would burst into flames or something. I never even thought of sparkling.

Francis's right hand was resting on the grass nearby me, looking like it had been carved out of marble. I wondered if it was just as hard as marble and reached out to poke it. Francis closed his eyes in bliss as I curiously stroked the back of his hand with my finger.

A detached voice in my mind was crying in horror about what I was doing, but I was too transfixed on the sparkling man in front of me to really care.

I pulled Francis's hand into my own and flipped it over, revealing bluish veins near his wrist. I traced them, faintly wondering if Francis still had blood in his body and resolved to ask him later – if I remembered.

"You aren't scared?" Francis broke the silence, opening his eyes and regarding me with a curious expression. I shook my head.

"As if I'd be scared of a bloody sparkling half-naked man," I snorted. Francis smiled, momentarily making me lose my train of thought. I continued to trace his veins, trying to ignore the smirk that was growing on Francis's face in vain, my cheeks reddening considerably.

"Your skin is so warm," Francis murmured and in a mere second I went from holding onto his right arm to him cupping my face with both his hands. I blinked at him, not prepared to see his face so close up. His minty breath washed over my face and I felt myself losing the ability to do anything but stare. I leaned in to breathe the scent in and I saw a flash of what looked like fear in Francis's eyes.

And like that, Francis was gone. I fell onto the grass, not realizing that I had been trying to lean into Francis. I looked around; feeling slightly hurt, and found Francis staring at me from the shadows of the trees – no longer sparkling.

"Did I do something wrong?" I asked, feeling confused. My hands tingled from holding his cold hands.

"Just give me a moment, s'il te plaît," Francis called out, loud enough so that I could hear. I nodded, busying myself by playing with the grass around me, feeling ashamed.

It felt like an eternity waiting for him. I heard a noise above me and saw Francis walking back to me and sitting down. His eyes never left my own.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "It was a human instinct," he joked. I nodded, swallowing thickly. The fact of how dangerous it was for me to be sitting across from him in a deserted area suddenly hit me and adrenaline coursed through my veins as I tried to make it seem like I wasn't scared.

He could smell the adrenaline entering my blood and smirked, a much different smirk from the one I usually saw.

It was mocking, dangerous.

"It's funny isn't it?" he began, staring at me with hungry eyes. "I'm the world's best predator because of the fact that everything about me draws my prey in. But I don't need any of that, do I?" he whispered, advancing closer. I began to crawl backwards away from him, my eyes widening in fear. This was nothing like the Francis I was used to. I suddenly wanted the old Francis back.

"As if you could outrun me," he whispered. He suddenly stood up, making me flinch. Francis walked towards a tree and reached upwards. I watched in slight horror as he grabbed the biggest branch there [that was probably as thick as my arm] and ripped it off the tree, throwing it past me and hitting a tree behind me. I didn't turn around to see what had happened to the tree; I was too afraid of lowering my guard around this new Francis.

"As if you could fight me off," he murmured, smirking. Before I could react, Francis was suddenly pushing me towards the ground, pressing his cold torso against mine, eyes glittering tauntingly at me.

"It's so easy to break you," he whispered, hands snaking up my body. I shivered from the contact and the coldness of his skin, too petrified to do anything lest Francis would attack. Our eyes met again and his light blue eyes suddenly widened in horror, seeing how truly terrified I was for the first time. Just like that, he was gone, seeking refuge in the shadows of the trees once more. I sat up, trembling, staring at the grass in shock.

"I'm sorry," Francis called out, sounding remorseful. There was no trace of the hunter Francis that had appeared only a few seconds ago. He walked towards me. In reaction I crawled away from him, a bit of that terror still in me. Francis froze and his face fell, looking upset. "I promise I won't hurt you, Arthur," he murmured. I watched him come closer until he was sitting across from me again. He reached out to touch my cheek. A part of me wanted to move away from the touch but I stayed put, my eyes never leaving him as he smiled at me sadly.

"Forgive me," he murmured, concentrating on rubbing circles into my cheek with his pale, cold thumb. "You caught me by surprise. I promise I'll be on my best behaviour now," he said. I didn't reply, my brain concentrating on the thumb that was rubbing circles into my cheek. "I blame your eyebrows," he added, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. That comment got to me. I swatted his hand off my face, scowling at him.

"Bloody wanker," I muttered, turning away. Francis laughed, the laugh sounding oddly nervous and cautious to my ears.

"Are you alright?" Francis asked me, placing a hand under my chin and moving my face so that we were looking at each other again.

"Of course I am – I'm not a _woman_," I snarled, cheeks blushing furiously. Now that I was thinking clearly, everything that had happened thus far suddenly hit me.

"So where were we, before I turned into such a monster?" Francis asked me cheerfully. I shrugged.

"I can't remember," I answered. Francis made a face.

"I think we were talking about why you aren't scared of me," Francis said.

"I guess we were," I replied.

"Well?" Francis asked. I dropped my eyes back to the grass and busied myself by ripping out the grass and letting the wind blow them out of my fingers.

Minutes crept by. Francis let out I sigh; my eyes flickered up towards him. He was staring at me with some frustration.

"This is so _different_," he murmured to himself, and it hit me that this situation was just as new for him as it was for me. Just because Francis liked to whore himself around the school doesn't mean he actually ever was in a relationship.

"I'm not scared because I know you won't hurt me; but I'm also scared because you can and because of that, I shouldn't stay near you," I muttered finally, staring fixatedly on my shoe, blushing deeply. "But I want to," I added, even quieter.

"That's not a good idea for you," Francis murmured gently. "I should've left a long time ago. But I don't know if I can now," he added.

"I don't want you to leave – everyone here is so boring," I said without thinking. I blinked and blushed furiously. "N-not that I like you or anything!" I protested as Francis smirked ever so slightly. The smirk faded again and he sighed; I wondered how Francis could cope being so damned bipolar.

"You wanting me to stay is exactly the reason why I should leave. But I crave your company now far too much to ever do that," Francis said.

"Good," I muttered.

"Don't be!" Francis exclaimed, sounding horrified. "You must remember that it's not just your company that I crave. I'm more dangerous to you than I am to anyone else," he said sadly, frowning. I looked up at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Aren't you dangerous for everyone?"

Francis smiled slightly – his mood changing yet again, and looked thoughtful. "I'm trying to think of an analogy to better explain this to you," he murmured, closing his eyes.

I watched him think, suddenly tempted to lie down and sleep on the ground since it was beautiful outside. I didn't want to leave myself unguarded like that in front of the lecherous non-human in front of me, so I resisted the urge.

"Imagine a recovering drug addict," Francis began, opening his eyes. "Like a heroin addict. He is recovering, so he can force himself to resist the urge of using yet again. But he's locked in a room with heroin lying nearby, it will be tempting for him to use again, non?" Francis asked.

I frowned. "Are you calling me your brand of heroin?" I asked. He laughed.

"You're _exactly_ my brand of heroin," Francis purred. I scowled, blushing deeply. Only the frog could make drugs into a sexual innuendo.

"Does it happen often? Meeting people like that?" I asked, trying to direct ourselves back to the prior topic. Francis frowned slightly.

"My brothers and I have discussed it before," Francis said finally, staring above me at the tips of the trees. "Feliciano and Lovino have never met anyone like that, and Ludwig is still getting used to resisting humans. He's the most recent addition to our family, and he hasn't had time to become sensitive to each blood type's smell and flavor – he still thinks they all taste the same," Francis replied. I tried to pretend like that didn't creep me out.

"And Antonio?" I asked him, remembering the cheerful-looking boy from the cafeteria.

"Twice for him," Francis replied. "One stronger than the other," he added.

"What happened to them?" I asked. Francis gave me a pointed look and I paled. "So is there no hope for me?" I asked, feeling strangely calm although I was talking about my own death. Francis looked horrified.

"Of course there is!" he exclaimed. "What happened with Antonio was only because he had been a vampire for a mere decade – that's not long enough to get used to being around blood. Besides, those were strangers he met – he never knew any of them personally," Francis added.

"So if we met in a dark alley or something?" I questioned.

"It was hard enough not to attack you the first time we met," Francis said. "The only thing that kept me from not doing so is how horrified our mother; Elizaveta would be if everything our father had done had been ruined – just like that! It didn't help my cause that you decided to fume at me and yell at me in front of the entire class," he added and I blushed.

"You kept bloody staring at me," I muttered, "it was creepy."

"And even when I tried to avoid you by switching schedules, I somehow managed to find you in that office with me. I was so very tempted to kill the other two humans before advancing on you," Francis said and I shuddered, realizing how close to the death the secretaries were. "It made me feel ashamed – the fact that a silly new boy from London could make me feel like I was going insane. The moment the bell rang I left school and straight to Roderich at the hospital so I could tell him I was leaving," Francis continued.

I stared at him. "You left?" I asked. Francis nodded.

"I used Roderich's car. My gas tank was nearly empty and I didn't want to take any stops. I didn't go home – I knew Elizaveta would try to get me to stay rather than leave. She'd bring out her frying pan and cause a scene," Francis added with a slight smile. I didn't know what he was talking about but didn't say anything. "I went to Scotland – I needed to recuperate…but I was terribly homesick, and I knew Elizaveta had been hurt and enraged that I had left the family without even a goodbye. I was staying with some old acquaintances but I felt like I had to go back. After all," he said with a smile, "how I could I let myself be chased away from home by a bad tempered boy with abnormally large eyebrows?" I scowled at him.

"Then what?" I asked, a frown still on my face.

"I took more precautions. I hunted and drank more than I should so I could stand being near you…I decided to start on a fresh leaf on you, so that we could be friends rather than enemies. It was terribly hard for me to figure you out – I had to keep listening through Peter and it was tiresome. His mind is very simple," Francis said with a sigh. I smirked, feeling pleased. "I tried to get to you know and found myself becoming fascinated with you – your temper is very amusing," he added. I blushed. "But then you would move your hand or come too close and I suddenly wanted to suck you dry," he said.

"That sounds dirty," I growled at him, reddening. "Can't you just say you wanted to drink my blood?"

Francis beamed. "But what if I wasn't talking about that?" he purred. My blush deepened. "And of course," he continued, as though there hadn't been any interruptions, "when I nearly saw you get crushed to death in front of me, I…I tried to give myself a reason as to why I saved you. I tried telling myself that it was because I knew I would go crazy if I saw your blood exposed but really…the only thing I was thinking at the time was, 'please, not him'," he whispered.

A silence fell upon us as I registered his words. Francis was staring at me, a gentle smile on his lips.

"And in the hospital?" I asked, recalling our argument.

"I was horrified," Francis admitted. "When I got home there was an argument. Lovino and Ludwig thought I should've let you die…Roderich and Feliciano sided with me. Antonio was torn between both options, and Elizaveta just wanted to do whatever I had to do in order to keep living here," Francis told me. "The next day, I tried to stay away from you because I knew it was bad to get close to you. Your scent was still as powerful to me as it was on the first day," he sighed. "I almost wish now that I exposed my family's secret on the first day, rather than here," he admitted, "if I were to attack you with no witnesses."

"I don't get it," I said, confused. "Why?"

Francis smiled, reaching out and stroking cheek. A thrill ran through my body at the touch. "I wouldn't know how I could live with myself if you died," he said quietly. "To not be able to see you blush whenever you were embarrassed, to never hear you yell at me with all you can…I wouldn't be able to go on." He took in a shaky breath, looking at me straight in the eye. "I didn't realize until now how much you mean to me. You've become the most important thing in my life."

My head felt like it was spinning. It was such a sudden change in conversation – from how I was irrationally not afraid of him to the fact that…Francis was in love with me. I swallowed thickly. It was sitting there, processing the words that Francis had just said to me, when I realized what I had been trying to deny myself unconsciously ever since who knows when. I needed Francis in my life. I craved talking to Francis. Yes, he was unbearably irritating and made more sexual innuendos in a day than most people do in a lifetime, but I didn't mind it as much as I would if he were someone else.

Without realizing it, I had fallen in love with Francis Paye.

And I didn't care as much as I thought I would.

"How do you feel about me?" Francis asked quietly, jolting me out of my thoughts. It surprised me how insecure Francis sounded, how nervous.

"I-I'm here…aren't I?" I asked, smiling at Francis slightly. "And I…I don't hate you," I muttered, looking away. Francis smiled, reaching out and taking my hands.

We sat there in silence, staring at our hands. "I'm such an idiot," I muttered, realizing how unsafe it was for me to be with Francis, and the fact that I didn't care.

Francis chuckled. "You are," he agreed and I laughed with him, feeling slightly giddy.

"Why did you run away before?" I asked, watching the sunlight hit him and make him sparkle.

"You surprised me," Francis admitted, sounding sheepish.

"So I didn't accidently make you want to rip my throat out?" I asked. Francis laughed. Without even a warning, he reached out and placed a hand on my neck. I blanched but didn't move away. Seconds trickled by. Nothing happened.

"See? I'm fine," he said with a beam. I blushed, looking away, cursing the fact that my blood was rushing through my veins. Francis could probably feel the pulse in them – probably _hear_ it – and I wondered how he was able to resist it. "The blush on your cheeks is beautiful," Francis murmured, letting go of my hand and holding my face with both of his. "May I try something?" he asked, cocking his head at me innocently.

"As long as it doesn't involve me dying," I answered shakily, a little lightheaded from the contact. Francis laughed lightly, leaning in towards me. I cursed the sudden quickness of my heart beat as Francis rested his head in the crook of my shoulder.

I tried to breathe evenly as I tried to wrap my mind around the fact that Francis was now indeed _nuzzling _me.

And that I kind of really enjoyed it.

We sat there in silence. I busied myself with controlling my breathing and trying to hide the shivers that went through my body when Francis wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling himself closer to me.

Just when I thought my heart was back to its normal heart rate, Francis sat up slightly, shifting slightly so that he was now rest his head on my chest.

Above my heart.

He was listening to my heart beat – with I was pretty sure he could hear clearly. My heart had started beating even faster than it had before. It hit me how if I just moved a little, my life could end at that very second if Francis couldn't control his desire. The thought scared me and I tried to get myself thinking of something much safer, like how the sun made his hair shine and how that shine plus his sparklyness were killing my eyes.

And although it felt like only a few seconds had gone by, he released me.

"That wasn't too hard," he said with a beam, sounding a little breathless. I nodded shakily, still trying to get my heart to slow down. Francis prodded at his cheek in surprise. "It's warm," he breathed out. He grabbed my hand suddenly, pressing it against his cheek. He was right; his normally ice cold skin was almost the same temperature as my own. Unconsciously my thumb brushed against his cheek. It was insanely smooth. Fascinated, I ran my fingers over Francis's face, blushing as Francis smiled at me in amusement.

"Sorry," I said, lowering my hand and looking away. Francis took hold of my hand once more.

"I liked it," he replied, smile growing. I raised my eyes to look at him and my heart thudded in my chest at the hunger in his eyes. But not the type of hunger I should fear my life for. He reached out and put his arms around me, burying his face in my hair. "I like this feeling," he admitted after a silence. "It makes me feel like I'm human again."

A part of me [a very _small_ part of me] really wanted to lean in and cuddle against him and be able to breathe in his scent. The other part of me noticed that the sun was beginning to set and that the shadows of the trees were beginning to lengthen.

"We should probably go now," Francis said sighing, voicing my thoughts. I nodded, struggling to stand to my feet. I saw him frown, and then light up excitedly. He grabbed me by the shoulders and stared me straight in the eye. "D'you mind if we get to your abysmally slow truck _my_ way?" he asked me excitedly.

"Depends…what is it?" I asked, a bit miffed at the indirect insult to my beloved truck.

Francis grinned a very Cheshire cat-like grin. "You'll see," he said.

And with that, he grabbed me, pulled me onto his shoulders and _ran_.

Ran faster than his car could drive.

Ran faster than a fucking _cheetah._

I didn't even have time to scream. I squeezed my eyes shut, burying my face into Francis's cold hard shoulder as he ran past dozens of trees. Although I'm not very religious, I believe I uttered a least 6 prayers, hoping to God that I would make it off Francis's shoulder alive.

And then it was over – just like that. Francis gently pried me off his shoulder and sat me on the ground. I quivered, letting myself open my eyes just a fraction.

"Wasn't that exhilarating?" Francis asked me eagerly.

"I feel sick," I muttered, indeed sounding sick to my stomach. I scowled as Francis laughed at me.

"You'll get used to it with time," he reassured me.

"We're never going anywhere like that _ever_ again," I told him, looking up for a second, feeling dizzy and returning to staring steadily at the ground.

"While I was running, I was thinking," Francis began, sitting down beside me.

"Hopefully about not running into a tree or something," I muttered. Francis laughed again.

"No of course not – I don't need to concentrate when I run," Francis told me.

"How entirely reassuring," I snapped at him, feeling nauseous all over again.

"As I was saying, I was thinking that I really wanted to try something with you," Francis said, beaming. I stared at him.

"Try what?" I asked him warily.

"Stay still," Francis said, leaning in. I barely had time to prepare myself as his cold lips pressed itself against mine.

It was a cautious kiss; Francis was testing how far he could go before snapping. I controlled myself, not wanting to go too far but secretly wanting to more than anything. The blood coursed through my lips and I felt my lips part open slightly, leaning in for more.

Francis froze, his eyes widening. I realized I had gone too far and pulled back.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, looking away. Francis reached over and moved my chin so that we were looking at each again. Francis seemed composed, but I could see the wild lust burning in his eyes. It made me blush, feeling slightly guilty. I tried to move away but Francis put his arms around me, blocking any way of escape.

"Just give me a few seconds," Francis muttered, staring into my eyes. I didn't dare look away. Francis took a deep breath and beamed. "See? All better," he said, standing up and helping me to my feet. I had still not regained my balance and clung to Francis for support. "Oh, I guess my kiss must've been too strong for you," he teased, laughing as I scowled.

"Hardly – it was your moronic running that has me so dizzy," I said, walking towards my truck's driver's seat. Francis pulled me back, making me let out a rather undignified noise in surprise.

"You're hardly in a state to drive – let _me_," Francis said, pushing past to get into the driver's seat.

"I'm not sure my nerves in a place for me to let you drive," I said with a frown.

"You can hardly stand let alone walk straight. Friends don't let friends drive drunk," he said, quoting a poster that hung nearby the gymnasium in our school. I growled.

"I'm not drunk," I informed him. Francis beamed.

"You're intoxicated by my very presence," he said.

"Hardly," I replied, but tossing him my keys nevertheless and getting into the passenger's seat. "Don't over work her – she's old," I warned him.

"I'm sure she can't even go past 100," he said with a smirk. I stared at him for a few seconds.

"And you're not affected at all by my presence?" I asked him, going back to the previous conversation.

Francis's expression softened as he leaned into me once more. Our lips brushed against each other and he stroked my cheek lovingly. "Of course I am," he murmured, his lips still on my own, "I just can control myself better."

* * *

**A/N: I'm choking from all this fluff, really, I am. And there's more in the next chapter!**

**I thought this update would be coming a bit later than usual, as a bit of a tactless review brought down my confidence and made me rather sad, but I decided to keep writing for y'all and here you go! **

**_"I like this feeling," he admitted after a silence. "It makes me feel like I'm human again." _Not gonna lie, I had 'Human again' from Beauty and the Beast stuck in my head after writing that part. **

**Review for more fluff?**


	17. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen:

Francis was a good driver, I had to admit that. His fast reflexes made it easy for him to drive along the almost empty highway one-handed, the other hand busy either adjusting the radio or trying to grab onto my hand.

In the end I let him hold my hand – only because I was scared he might drive us off the road by accident.

It was strange seeing Francis so carefree. He had the radio blasting out music from the fifties, and surprised me by singing word for word each line.

"You listen to fifties music?" I asked him incredulously as Francis nodded his head to the beat. Francis beamed.

"As well as sixties, seventies and eighties. But the fifties were the best – it was fun watching Antonio getting Lovino to dance with him," Francis reminisced with a chuckle.

"How old are you _anyways_?" I asked, frowning. If he was alive during the fifties…he was a lot older than even my father was. That unnerved me immensely.

"I'm not exactly sure…" Francis mused. "I was born in Paris, July 14th…1901."

I gasped; I hadn't been expecting that. He was 109 years old, at least.

"When Roderich first found me, my parents – Nicolas and Carla Bonnefoy – had already died and I was on my deathbed, dying from the Spanish Influenza," Francis continued, glancing at me to see my reaction.

"Why did he save you?" I asked curiously.

"He was lonely. He knew that I was alone, and decided to take me in as a son. That's why he saved Elizaveta too – she had fallen off a cliff and when they brought her to the hospital morgue…he found that her heart was still beating," Francis replied.

"Do you have to be near death to become…a vampire? Or is that just Roderich?" I asked, still not understanding.

"It's just Roderich – it isn't in Roderich's nature to change someone if they could have another choice." It was surprising how much respect there was in Francis's voice about his father figure.

"What about Antonio and Lovino?" I asked, wanting to know more about Francis's family.

"Roderich saved Lovino and brought him into our family afterwards. I believe Elizaveta was hoping Lovino would be to me what she was to Roderich." Francis smirked. "We've never been anything other than quarreling siblings, much to her disappointment. It was only two years after Lovino was changed when he found Antonio. Lovino had been hunting in Spain and came across Antonio being attacked by a bear. He brought Antonio back to Roderich because he was scared he wouldn't be able to do it himself. I suppose I realize now how difficult it must've been for him," he mused, stroking my hand with his thumb.

"But he managed to do it," I said in awe.

"Lovino must've seen something in Antonio that made him want to save him and they've been together ever since – even if Lovino sometimes likes to say that he hates Antonio. They've been married more times than I can count – more than Roderich and Elizaveta have or Feliciano and Ludwig – and I'm guessing that in a few years – since we're posing as teenagers – we'll be invited to their wedding _again_," Francis said with a laugh.

"What about Feliciano and Ludwig?" I continued.

"Feliciano and Ludwig are both very strange. They both managed to develop a conscience, despite the fact they had no outside help. Ludwig had lived with a group of people prior to us – a group of people with _very_ different morals. Their way of living depressed Ludwig and he left to wander the countryside of Germany until Feliciano found him. Feliciano, like me, has a certain gift that's not usually considered normal for our kind," Francis added.

"What does Feliciano do?" I asked, picturing the peppy Italian boy in my head.

"He can see the future," Francis said with a straight face. I blinked at him. "I'm not joking," he added.

"What kinds of stuff has he seen?" I asked.

"He saw himself meeting Ludwig, the two of them joining our family…he's more sensitive to non-humans in particular. If another group of our kind is coming near us, he can always see it – and if they pose us a threat or not."

"Are there a lot of vampires?" I asked. Francis shook his head.

"No, but we travel a lot. Our kind is a nomadic type," he answered.

"Is Feliciano from another family too?" I asked curiously. Francis shook his head.

"Feli's past is a bit of a mystery to us," he admitted. "He woke up alone. If he didn't have his ability to see the future, I'm pretty sure he would've turned into a total savage."

I shuddered, trying not to picture the cheerful other boy savagely attacking a human being.

Before I could ask anymore questions, my stomach grumbled; I hadn't even realized that I was hungry.

"You're hungry," Francis said in surprise as we pulled up onto my driveway. Albert wasn't home yet.

"I guess I'll have to make myself something," I said as I opened the door, hopping out and trying not to shiver from the sudden chill.

"_Non_ – I will make you something to eat," Francis said primly, gracefully getting out of the driver's seat and tossing the keys to me.

"How will _you_ be able to cook anything? You can't even eat!" I informed him. Francis shrugged.

"I like making food for humans," he replied. "And I'm actually good at it," he taunted. I growled as he laughed and ran towards the door, stooping down to the ground before opening the front door.

"How did you open the door?" I asked, mystified. Had it been open this entire time?

"I used the key under the carpet," Francis replied, handing me said key.

My eyes narrowed. "How did you know that there was a key under there?" I asked him suspiciously.

He shrugged. "I've seen you use it before," he admitted.

"You _spy_ on me?" I shot at him, enraged.

"There isn't anything else to do at night," Francis replied easily.

Before I could fume at him, Francis walked into the house and disappeared into the kitchen. As I walked in, I could see Francis opening cupboards and locating everything easily. I glared at him darkly.

It was only a few minutes later when Francis handed me a plate of food to eat when I asked, "How often do you spy on me?"

"Hmm?" Francis asked, looking at me. "Oh, every night," he replied casually.

I choked on my food, sputtering and grabbing for the glass of water nearby. Francis watched with amusement as I tried to stop myself from choking to death.

"Why?" I demanded angrily with I could breathe again.

Francis shrugged. "Because you're interesting when you sleep," he replied. "You talk."

I blanched, feeling my eyes bulge open. MY mother always teased me about how I talked in my sleep – the last thing I needed was to have Francis hear what I dreamt about!

"Is that bad?" Francis asked, a smile twitching at his lips.

"Of course it is!" I yelled, "What did you hear?"

"Lots of stuff," Francis replied. "You miss London, you miss your mother – you think it's too dark and cloudy here…"

"What else?" I demanded.

"You did mention me a few times…" Francis said teasingly, smirking.

"What did I say?" I asked, feeling the horror sink into my stomach.

"You didn't _say_ anything with my name…just moaned a few things," Francis said lecherously. I slammed my face into the table, feeling blood rush up to my face. I wanted a lightening bolt to come down and strike me dead, I was so horrifyingly embarrassed. "But don't worry – if I could sleep, I'd about you in that sense too," Francis added, reaching over and lifting my head up with a finger.

"I hate you," I muttered, looking away.

"Je t'aime aussi," Francis sang out happily. "But, if I could sleep, most probably my dreams would be of you," he added softly. I looked up, blushing slightly. "Naked underneath me, begging for more…" he continued wistfully and I scowled, flinging a piece of food at him.

It was then when we both heard the sound of a car rolling onto the driveway. I blanched; Albert was home.

"Do you want your father to know that I'm here?" Francis asked. I shook my head quickly. And just like that, I was alone – I didn't even have time to _blink_, he was already gone.

"Arthur? Are you home?" Albert called out from front door.

"In the kitchen!" I called back, gulping down the last bits of the food Francis made for me and walking to the sink. Albert stomped in, grunting a hello at me.

"How was your day?" Albert asked me, trekking to the fridge and opening it, peering inside. I looked around frantically, trying to spot where Francis could be hiding.

"It was alright," I lied casually, feeling anxious. "And you?" I tried to busy myself by washing my dirty plate, but I noticed my hands were shaking. I had no idea how Albert would react if he suddenly found Francis Paye in our house.

"It was a pretty good day – the fish were biting and it was a nice day," Albert replied. I put my clean dish onto the rack with a loud clatter, jumping slightly and grabbing a paper towel to dry my hands off. "You seem in a rush today," Albert replied, startling me slightly.

"Do I?" I asked lightly. "Strange…I think I'm going to go to my room now and go to bed," I said, starting to walk out of the room.

"It's a Saturday," Albert remarked suddenly, making me freeze.

"Yes, it is," I agreed, taking another step forwards.

"You sure you don't have any plans tonight?" Albert asked suspiciously and it suddenly hit me that Albert was under the impression that I would be sneaking off to do something potentially illegal. I laughed weakly.

"No, of course not. I'm just going to finish up some homework and sleep – I'm _exhausted_." I attempted to yawn to further prove my point. Albert nodded and went back to raiding the fridge, still looking a bit doubtful. I took this as my cue to leave, practically running upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time in my hurry to reach my room.

I barged into my room and closed the door, running towards the window and throwing it open. I peered outside, squinting to see if I could make out a human-like shape in the darkness.

"Francis?" I called out quietly.

"Oui?" a voice murmured into my ear. Two cold arms wrapped themselves around my waist and pulled me backwards. It took all of my willpower to not screa—er, _yell_ and punch the person behind me as hard as I could.

"You bloody _idiot_!" I hissed at him, closing the window and pulling the curtains closed. "Let go of me!"

Francis laughed. "_Non_," he said cheerfully, dragging me backwards towards my bed. "Sit with me," he commanded, leaping onto the bed and pulling me onto his lap. I attempted to escape his lap, feeling my dignity slowly going away. Francis held onto me, though, and I found my attempts to be fruitless.

"Can't you at least let me go to the washroom?" I asked, exasperated as Francis refused to let go of me for the umpteenth time. "I told Albert that I was going to bed, so he'll be expecting to hear me go to the washroom, shower and get ready for bed."

"Can I assist you in any of that?" Francis asked hopefully. I scowled at him. But he did indeed let go of me, watching me grab a towel and my worn out pyjamas off the ground and start towards the washroom. I glanced back to look at him and saw him dutifully waiting for me, as still as stone.

I walked to the washroom and closed the door, hoping I was loud enough for my father to hear downstairs with the TV on. I brushed my teeth while absently humming under my breath. I checked to make sure that the door was still locked before taking my clothes off and stepping into the shower. I felt slightly paranoid about being naked when Francis was in the house. The hot water from the shower unwound my muscles and warmed me up. I surprised myself by yawning; I hadn't realized that I was _actually_ tired.

I dried myself off a few minutes later and dried my hair, tossing the towel into the nearby hamper and pulling on my pyjamas. I had a feeling Francis would make a remark about my old frayed pajama bottoms or my T-shirt, which was covered in little holes and had a faded picture of a fairy on it [my senile grandmother had given it to me for my birthday a few years ago, thinking I was a girl and I didn't have the heart to return it to the store].

I stepped out of the washroom, letting the steam from my hot shower escape into the hallway, and walked downstairs, trying to seem casual and as though I wasn't worried or anxious about anything.

I walked past the living room to go into the kitchen. "I'm just going to get some milk," I announced to my father.

Albert took in my wet hair and pyjamas and looked mildly surprised; he had honestly thought I was going to sneak out of the house.

"Alright," he said, turning back to the TV. I walked towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a glass from a nearby cupboard and pouring myself a small glass of milk. I wondered if Albert was still suspicious as I drank.

"G'night," I said to him as I walked back upstairs. Albert grunted a response at me, his eyes glued to the TV. I took that as meaning Albert wasn't suspicious of me anymore. I ran back to my room.

Francis was still sitting there, still as a statue. He smirked the moment I walked into my room, closing the door gently behind me.

"You have an interesting taste in fashion," he remarked as I walked back to my bed. I scowled at him.

"I don't care if I'm not fashionable right now," I snapped at him. "Nobody's going to see. Now get out of my bed," I told him.

Surprisingly, Francis did as told, getting off of my bed and letting me lie down to go to sleep. The moment I did so he walked to the light switch and turned it off, and then climbed back on to the bed…on top of me.

"Get off!" I hissed, my face turning red. Francis chuckled quietly, pressing his cold body against me and nuzzling my neck.

"You smell so nice," he murmured, making my body freeze. I stopped trying to fight him off as he kissed the side of my jaw, my thoughts incoherent.

It took me a few minutes to string together a coherent sentence. "You don't seem to be struggling anymore," I muttered, feeling like my heart was going to explode. Francis looked up at me.

"I think I'm getting better at repressing my urges, more so than I originally thought." He sounded pleased with himself, and returned to kissing my neck and jaw line.

"Would you_ please_ stop that?" I hissed, feeling dizzy. Francis chuckled again.

"You are enjoying it, non?" he replied teasingly, pressing his lips against mine for a swift kiss.

We heard the sounds of someone walking up the stairs. Francis froze, his lips still against mine. And suddenly, he was gone again. I rolled over to my side and hugged my pillow the way I do when I sleep. I closed my eyes just as I heard the sounds of my door opening. I could see light pour in from the hallway into my room through my closed eyelids. I breathed heavily and prayed I looked like I was asleep. I heard the door close again.

"You're a terrible actor," Francis whispered into my ear from behind. I let out a little squawk as he pulled me towards him. My stomach jolted as I realized my body fit perfectly into his – it irked me. "Where were we?" he asked, running a hand up my shirt…

"Why me?" I asked suddenly. Francis's hand disappeared from under my shirt, resting itself on my arm.

"What do you mean?" he asked in confusion.

"Why did you choose me of all people? Roderich changed Lovino just for you but you didn't fall for him that way… why not?" I asked.

Francis chuckled a little. "Back then I was intent on living my life without anyone to tie me down," he admitted. "But Lovino is irritable and we clashed all the time – the way brothers would. So I never fell for him. I never fell for _any_one, actually. Before you came along, that is," he added, kissing the part of my neck where my jugular vein was. I suppressed a shiver. "Any other questions?" he asked.

I frowned slightly, thinking. I was beginning to feel sleepy, but didn't want to fall asleep – lest Francis did anything to me while I was asleep. "Why can you read minds? And why can Feliciano see the future? How does that all work?" I asked, rolling over to face him.

Francis frowned as he tried to figure out a response. "We don't really know for sure…but Roderich has a theory about it," he admitted finally. "He thinks that we all bring our strongest human traits with us when we transform and it's there that they are intensified. When I was still human, I was good at reading people's emotions and figuring out what they thought based off the way they act. I'm guessing that's why I can read minds. We don't know much about Feliciano, but perhaps he had some precognition before he was changed," he answered.

"What about Roderich and the others?" I asked. "What did they bring into their vampire lives?"

"Roderich brought his compassion, need for helping people…and music," Francis answered. "You should hear him play piano – it's very calming…it almost has a healing affect. Elizaveta brought her ability to love. She loves all of us very much – and that may or may not be because she has a secret kink for homosexual relationships," he added with a laugh. "Antonio as a human was very strong and he brought that strength with him to his new life. He's also the only vampire I've ever met who can stay cheerful for such a long period of time. Lovino brought…well, Lovino brought his stubbornness. Or his bad temper. Or both – I'm not entirely sure."

"And Ludwig?" I asked, remembering Feliciano's rather serious-looking boyfriend [or is it husband?].

"Ludwig is an interesting case. He doesn't seem like it, but apparently as a human he was very charismatic. It was easy for him to get his way and convince people to listen to him. Because of that, he can now manipulate the emotions of the people around them. He can sense their emotions and alter them to feel something totally different. He can calm down an angry mob and excite a sleepily lethargic crowd. It's a fascinating gift," Francis replied.

We lay there in silence, Francis absently drawing circles on my thigh. My eyes began to droop and I felt Francis lean in to kiss my forehead.

"Do vampires-" I froze, realizing how stupid the question I had in mind was.

"Do vampires…?" Francis prompted. I said nothing, feeling my cheeks burn. I rolled away from him.

He rolled me back to face him again. "Arthur, what did you want to ask me?" he asked.

"Nothing, it was stupid," I said hastily.

Francis let out a frustrated noise. "It's really _difficult_ for me not know what you're thinking," he muttered. I felt a bit triumphant at his irritation, but a little guilty as well. "Please tell me?" he asked hopefully, leaning in to kiss me again.

"No."

"Please?" He ran his hand up my leg. I jerked away from the movement and rolled away from him. Francis rolled on top of me, pinning me onto the bed. "Please?" he purred, his lips brushing against my own.

"Do vampires get married in the same way that humans do…and stuff?" I blurted out. Francis blinked at me, before bursting into laughter.

"Is _that_ it?" he asked, laughing quietly. I scowled at him.

"I told you it was stupid," I muttered.

"Yes, we do get married in the same ways that humans do…and they consummate the marriage in the same way too. What brought on this question?" Francis asked, sounding a tad confused.

"No reason," I said quickly. "I might've been thinking about us but…" I fell silent, feeling like I said too much, my face burning.

"I don't think we'd be able to do that, Arthur," Francis told me softly, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. I stared up at him.

"Yet you could do it to everyone else?" I fumed at him.

"When I make love with human beings, I hold back so much. It's too tempting with you. Your blood tempts me…_everything_ about you tempts me. I wouldn't be able to hold back. I could accidentally rip you into two pieces," Francis whispered. I paled. "Scared?" he asked.

"Hardly," I scoffed, hoping my voice wasn't shaking.

"You should get to sleep," Francis murmured, rolling off of me and pulling me into his arms. I didn't bother fighting back.

"I'm not tired," I replied. Francis smirked. He began to hum gently under his breath a lullaby that I didn't recognize. My eyes began to droop and before I knew it, I had fallen asleep in his arms.

* * *

**A/N: Et voila! A quick update because omgosh, HIMARUYA FINALLY DREW PORTUGAL. YOU HAVE NO ECTASTIC I AM ABOUT THIS. I NOW HAVE FOUR NEW CHARACTERS I CAN ADD INTO THE STORY WITHOUT MAKING THEM OCS. THIS IS LIKE, THE BEST DAY EVER. **

**Just for that, you get a fluffy awesome update~! Oh, and you finally see why there will be no smut in this story - unless you want the story to end tragically xD **

**WHEEEE~~ I'M JUST SO HAPPY ABOUT THE NEW COUNTRIES. I wish he made an India though. Or Mexico. Or Scotland - but I'm not being picky. Just sayin'~ BUT GAH, SO EXCITED. **

**Review? YOU CAN SPAZZ WITH ME! xD**


	18. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen: 

I woke up as the sun's rays shone through my window, hitting my closed eyes and awakening me with a groan. I blinked my eyes open and stared at my hands, trying to remember exactly what had happened the night before.

"Your hair looks messier than usual," a voice called out from a corner of my room. It was then I remembered everything that had happened.

"You're still here?" I yelped, looking horrified as Francis watched me in amusement, lounging on my swiveling computer chair lazily.

"Of course." He seemed surprised that I was surprised to see him there. "Why would I leave you?" He chuckled at the blush creeping on my face. He began to slink closer.

I hopped off of the bed before he could climb on[to me]. "I need to brush my teeth," I announced loudly, freezing with my hand on the doorknob. "Where's Albert?" I asked, whipping around to face him.

"He left a half hour ago," Francis replied, making himself comfortable on my bed. He patted the spot beside him. "Don't be gone too long," he purred, making my face heat up. I grumbled a curse at him and fled to the hallway, feeling my face turning even redder at his laugh.

I stumbled into my washroom, slightly amused at how alert I suddenly was – something I rarely was this early in the morning. I quickly brushed my teeth and washed the sleep out of my eyes and face. I peered into the mirror, surprised at how _bright_ my green eyes were and how red my face was. I looked like I had a fever.

I walked back into the bedroom, scowling slightly at how Francis was still lying seductively on my bed. I sat on the edge, frowning at him. "You look different," I remarked.

"I went home to change," he answered smoothly. "You were deeply asleep when I left – I came back in time to hear you speak," he added with a smirk. I scowled again.

"I better not have said anything embarrassing," I muttered, standing up and walking away from the bed. I heard him climb off my bed gently and walk towards me. His cold arms wrapped around my waist.

"You said you loved me," he whispered into my ear, his minty breath making me feel momentarily light headed.

"Well it's not like you didn't know that," I croaked out, my face turning a bright red as I said it. Francis chuckled and kissed my neck lightly.

"I know, but I liked hearing it all the same," he answered softly. I glanced at him and saw that he was smiling at me, his light blue eyes sparkling at me. We stayed like this for a bit until Francis cleared his throat at the sound of my stomach grumbling. "Breakfast time~!" he sang out.

My eyes widened, my hands flying to my throat. Francis looked horrified, letting go of me instantly. I burst out laughing.

"And you said I couldn't act," I sneered at him. Francis frowned.

"That wasn't funny," he sniffed at me and I laughed again, feeling like I had won that round. "But let me rephrase that – its breakfast time for _you_," he said, pushing me towards the door. "Would you like me to make you something?" he asked eagerly, pleased that he could finally use his culinary skills again.

"No – I can hunt for myself, thank you very much," I answered and he scowled at my reference to how he ate. I smirked and began to walk towards the stairs before an arm wrapped around my waist and sent me over Francis's shoulder. "Let go of me!" I hissed at him angrily.

"Non~" he sang out cheerfully, ignoring the fact that I was grabbing onto his hair and pulling on it as hard as I could. He carried me into the kitchen and set me down on a chair before sitting across from me. "Are you sure you don't want me to make you anything?" he asked me. I shook my head.

"Watch me hunt," I told him, standing up. I felt his eyes on me as I rummaged through the cupboards, pulling out a box of cereal before striding towards the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk.

"Cereal?" Francis said skeptically as I took a bowl and spoon off the dish rack. I didn't grace his comment with a response, busying myself with pouring the cereal and milk in and putting the box and carton away before walking back to the table. "Does it taste any good?" he asked as I began to eat.

I rolled my eyes. "It's no irritable grizzly," I told him and I smirked as he scowled. "So, what are we doing today?" I asked him, trying to make small talk.

Francis grinned. "I was kind of thinking I could introduce you to my family," he said. I began coughing as food entered the wrong passage. Francis watched in slight surprise and amusement as I began to hit the back of my head in an attempt to stop choking.

"W-what?" I managed to croak out when the coughing finally stopped.

"I was kind of thinking I could introduce you to my family," Francis said slowly, as though I were incompetent. He smirked. "Are you scared?" he asked.

I scowled. "Not of _them_," I admitted. "But what they'll think of me…"

Francis burst out laughing. "I believe you are the only person who would be scared of what a couple of vampires would _think_ of you rather than worry that you were going to visit _vampires_ – period," he said with a chortle. We fell into a silence, me eating my cereal leisurely, and him watching me eat with a smile on his face.

As I was about to finish the last bits of the cereal, Francis spoke up again. "I think your father should know about us," he said. I began to cough; choking again.

"He doesn't even that I'm…that I like boys," I protested, feeling my cheeks heat up.

"Then it's a perfect time to tell him _and_ bring up the fact that we're dating!" Francis exclaimed.

"No way," I said grimacing.

"Why not? Isn't it standard procedure to introduce your boyfriend to your parents?" he questioned. _Boyfriend_. I nearly shuddered at the word; it sounded so trivial, so human – so unlike Francis.

"I don't really think of you as a boyfriend," I muttered under my breath.

"Oh, désolé – _lover_," he corrected. I was lucky to have finished eating or else I would've choked again. "Either way, I think you should," Francis continued.

"And why is that?" I asked, preferring to keep the relationship as secret as possible.

"Because, I need a reason as to why I'm here all the time. The last thing I need is for Chief Kirkland to put a restraining order on me – and I'm in no mood to break the law," Francis said airily. I didn't have a response to that; he had a point. "Are you finished eating?" he asked me suddenly.

"Oh…yeah, I am," I said, standing up to put the bowl in the sink. Francis grabbed it from me.

"Go get ready," he instructed. "I'll wait here and wash this while waiting," he said. I shrugged and walked upstairs.

The moment I knew Francis couldn't see my expression, my face morphed into a horrified face. I was going to see the Paye family.

The Paye family.

Who, with the exceptions of Antonio and Feliciano, disapproved of me.

And were vampires.

And I smelt really good, apparently.

It was safe to say that I was pretty much _terrified_ about what it'd be like meeting them face-to-face. I hurried into my room and wondered to wear. I wanted to make a good impression and any old thing wouldn't do.

Eventually, I fished out a tan dress shirt that my mother had given me for a recital not too long before I moved to St. Helens. I pulled on my favourite pair of black skinny jeans – they were my lucky pair, and I felt like I needed as much luck as I could get. I glanced at my reflection in the small mirror in my room and felt that my hair was far too messy to ever tame. I attempted to comb it down a bit before giving up and walking out of my bedroom.

"I'm decent!" I called out as I went down the stairs. Francis was waiting for me at the bottom. I didn't even have a chance to stop when Francis grabbed me and pulled me closer.

"Non, you're indecent," he purred into my ear, his arms hugging me tightly. "You have no idea how tempted I am to rip that all off and…" he didn't finish, kissing my lips fully. His fingers ran up and down my spine and his lips parted ever so slightly.

And of course, my knees gave way and I collapsed. Francis stared at me in surprise, letting go of my lips in an instant.

"I know I'm good, but _really_?" he said as I tried to regain breath. I scowled at him.

"Don't be so conceited – I guess I didn't eat enough or something," I said to him. Francis smirked, pulling me up to my feet.

"Let's get going," he said, taking me by the arm and pulling me towards the door, only stopping to let me get my keys and put my shoes on. "I'll drive," he offered once we got outside. I let him do so, realizing I had no idea where Francis even lived.

The car ride was surprisingly calming, the soft music playing in the background as I stared out of the window and Francis drove. Francis lived remarkably far away from the town – we seemed to be going the same way we did when going to the meadow. That had been at least a 2 hour trip. I supposed that since he drove like a maniac, it wouldn't take him too long to get to school.

I was beginning to wonder where exactly Francis was taking me when he took a sudden turn and led us onto an unpaved road, heading into the forest. I stared at him; he turned and gave me a smile, leaning in to kiss me. I turned away, blushing deeply.

And suddenly, after passing many, many trees, we stopped in front of a house. My jaw dropped. I didn't know what to expect when it came to Francis's house…and I wasn't sure whether this was it.

It was a tall white Victorian styled house, probably as old as Francis himself and three stories tall. I could tell there had been renovations done to it, as there were features there that couldn't have been in the original version. There were windows that stretched as long as the walls of the room and inside, I could see a large TV among other things.

"Do you like it?" Francis asked me.

"It seems like something you would like," I replied breathlessly, trying to figure out how much a how this extravagant could even cost. Francis laughed and slipped an arm around my waist, pulling me towards the front door. He opened it easily and let me go in first.

My jaw dropped again. I suppose that in the original house there would've been a few more rooms, but it seemed that the walls had been knocked down to make it seem bigger and more open. The walls were painted soft shades of warm colours and all together it seemed warm and cozy and _homey_. My surprise amused me; had I honestly been expecting a cave-like house with coffins everywhere?

To the right of us was a grand piano playing soft music in the background. The player of the piano was none other than Dr. Paye himself, a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and a soft pale pink flower resting above her right ear leaning against the piano, watching him play. As we approached, Dr. Paye stopped playing the piano, his eyes opening and glancing at us. The woman turned as well and her green eyes glittered at us.

"Roderich, Elizaveta," Francis said when we stopped in front of them, "this is Arthur."

"Welcome," Roderich said, extending a hand towards me. I smiled unsurely and took his hand, shaking it politely.

"Good to see you again, sir," I said.

"Call me Roderich," he said and I nodded.

Elizaveta beamed at me, rushing forwards and taking my hand with her cold one. "I'm glad I finally get to meet you," she said to me sweetly. "We've heard so much of you from Francis."

"Indeed," Francis said, taking this opportunity to kiss me on the cheek. My eyes widened as Elizaveta let out a squeal of pleasure. Roderich looked sufficiently annoyed.

"Elizaveta darling, your manners," he murmured to her. Elizaveta made a face and laughed a musical laugh.

"Sorry about that," she said.

"It's ok," I mumbled.

"He's so cute!" she gushed at Francis. Francis laughed.

"He's cuter when he blushes," he told his mother figure. "Très mignon," he cooed, pinching my cheek slightly. I glared at him, my cheeks turning red. The two of them laughed again. "Where are Feliciano and Ludwig?" Francis asked curiously.

There was no need to answer, as Feliciano and Ludwig had appeared on the top of the extravagant stairs nearby.

"Ve~ fratello!" Feliciano cried out enthusiastically. A streak of colour flew down the stairs, stopping beside Elizaveta. Elizaveta and Roderich exchanged worried looks but didn't say anything. I didn't say anything, rather liking how normal Feliciano seemed. All this forced politeness was putting me on edge. "Hello Arthur!" Feliciano exclaimed when he saw me and he flounced forward to kiss me lightly on the cheek, surprising myself, Elizaveta and Roderich. Francis smiled slightly but his eyes seemed slightly worried.

"Hello Feliciano," I said kindly. Feliciano beamed.

"You smell really nice, Arthur – I never noticed that before!" he complimented, giggling at the blush that appeared on my cheeks again. Nobody knew what to say after that, looking at each other awkwardly – and suddenly, Ludwig was there. He nodded at me curtly and suddenly all worries left my body and I felt comfortably at ease. I saw Francis smile at Ludwig slightly and remembered what Ludwig could do.

"Hello Arthur," he said politely, staying a reasonable distance away from me and extending his hand out to me. I took it and shook it quickly, unable to feel awkward around him.

"Hello," I replied. "It's nice meeting you all," I said in my most gentlemanly voice. Francis shot me a look but didn't say anything [I suppose he was surprised to see me so polite]. "You have a beautiful house," I said politely.

"Thank you. We're very glad that you came," Elizaveta said and it hit me how genuinely pleased she was that I was there in front of them. She must've thought I was brave or something, agreeing to go to a house full of vampires.

It also hit me that Antonio and Lovino weren't there. I remembered what Francis had said about not all of the family members approving of me and frowned slightly.

I saw Roderich give Francis a meaningful look and saw Francis nod. I blinked in confused and turned away, staring at the piano. Seeing the piano brought back lots of memories of my mother playing songs on the little piano we had in our living room back in London. She would play little songs and try to get me to sing and then join in to keep me singing. Victoria had wanted to send me to piano class but alas, we didn't have enough money at the time and by the time we did, I had lost interest in picking up the piano. A part of me missed hearing Victoria sing and wondered how she was doing in New York with Calvin.

Elizaveta noticed me staring at the piano. "Do you play?" she asked eagerly.

"No, sadly," I said with a sigh. "Whose piano is this?" I asked.

"Roderich's," Elizaveta said, putting an arm around her husband and smiling at him. "But Francis plays too – but his own compositions. Roderich's too old fashioned to make his own songs," she added eagerly. Francis and Roderich scowled at her as I looked up at Francis.

"The 'old fashioned songs' are the best," Roderich muttered to himself, wincing as Elizaveta nudged him in the stomach.

"I'm surprised you never brought that up in your bragging sessions," I remarked and Elizaveta frowned.

"Have you been showing off?" she said sternly, sounding more like a mother now. Francis looked sheepish.

"A bit," he admitted and Ludwig smirked.

"Will you play something for him?" Elizaveta asked eagerly. Francis sighed and after shooting me a look, nodded.

He sat down at the piano and smiled at me, launching into a song immediately. I didn't recognize it; it seemed to be a composition he made himself. My jaw dropped for the third time that day, ignoring the chuckles from Elizaveta, Ludwig, Feliciano and Roderich, watching Francis play the piano.

Francis looked up at me casually, still playing the piano and smirked. "Do you like it?" he asked. I nodded, closing my mouth.

"Did you write this?" I asked. He nodded.

"It's Elizaveta's favourite," he told me.

"I've never felt as musically disabled as I do now," I muttered to myself, wishing I could even come close to Francis's piano skills.

The melody melted into a softer one, more familiar sounding to my ears. It was the lullaby Francis had sung to me the night before.

"This one was inspired by you," Francis murmured, looking up at me with soft blue eyes. I blushed and looked away. "They like you," he added suddenly. "Elizaveta really likes you."

I turned around, only to see no one behind me. "Where did they go?" I asked.

"I guess they wanted to give us some privacy," Francis replied, ending his song.

"Do they really like me?" I asked, not wanting to believe it.

"They do."

"What about Lovino?" I asked.

"Lovino has the most trouble coping with the fact that we are who we are," Francis answered smoothly. "He's jealous of your humanity. Antonio's not here because he's trying to get Lovino to see reason – even though he thinks it's crazy of me to love a human," he added, smiling slightly.

"And Ludwig?" I asked, remember how the tall blonde boy kept his distance.

"I told him to stay away – he still is adjusting to our diet," Francis replied.

"Elizaveta and Roderich?" I asked. Francis laughed.

"Roderich is relieved that I've finally tied myself down and Elizaveta was worried that I was missing out on something special – plus, we've discovered that she has a fetish for homosexual relationships," Francis said, a twinkle in his eye. "I think she's pleased that I chose a boy rather than a girl, like everyone thought I might've chosen."

"Feliciano's seems very enthusiastic," I remarked. Francis frowned slightly before smiling and nodding. I wondered what made him frown but had a feeling that if I asked, Francis wouldn't tell me.

"Yes, he is," he agreed.

"What were you and Roderich discussing telepathically?" I asked casually as Francis stood up from the piano bench.

"You saw that?" he asked, walking towards me. I nodded. "Apparently Feliciano saw that there will be some visitors coming soon. They don't have the same diet as us, so I'm going to have to be very protective of you in the upcoming days – or weeks," Francis replied. I shuddered. Not able to think of a response, I looked around the room curiously, amazed again at how spacious it was.

"This isn't what you expected, was it?" Francis asked. I shook my head. "I helped design it," he added smugly. I rolled my eyes.

"Do I get a tour?" I asked, wanting to see more of the house. Francis beamed at me.

"You really want one?" Francis asked. Evidently, he was prouder of the design of the house than he was letting on. I nodded, trying to stifle the grin that was growing on my face as Francis took me by the arm and led me upstairs.

"Lovino and Antonio's room…" Francis said, motioning to a room to our right, "Roderich's office…" he motioned to the left, "Feliciano and Ludwig's room…" he motioned to the right again. "And…Arthur?" he asked, looking around. I had been following him dutifully up the stairs but the moment I had seen what was on the wall across from us I had froze.

"I-is that…?" I questioned. Francis grinned.

"Ironic, isn't it?" he asked, motioning me to come closer to the large cross hanging on the wall.

"Whose is it?" I asked.

"Roderich's – it belonged to his father back in the sixteen-thirties or something like that," Francis answered airily.

"How old _is_ Roderich?" I questioned. Francis grinned.

"He's turning 363 next year," Francis said, chuckling at the shocked look on my face. "He was born in Vienna in the sixteen forties – Roderich can't quite remember the date but he's sure it was before Maria Theresa's reign. He lived in Vienna for quite a long time until his father passed away and his mother decided to move to England where she had some family and remarried an Anglican pastor. Alas, his mother contracted a rare illness and passed away, leaving him with his step-father. It was around that time that the Protestants came into power and Roderich's step-father was very enthusiastic about killing people of different religions and supernatural beings like witches, werewolves…and vampires," Francis said, glancing at me to see my expression.

I kept my face neutral. "Go on," I urged, wanting to know more.

"And as you probably know, they burnt a lot of innocent people in their quest to 'rid the world of evil'. Roderich's step-father eventually got too old to do raiding, so he made Roderich stop his promising musical career to take on his step-father's work. At first, it seemed that Roderich was inadequate for the job, taking his time to accuse people. But Roderich was a lot smarter than his step-father and eventually actually found a coven of real vampires living in the sewers of the city, only coming out by night to hunt," Francis paused to let me take in this new bits of information.

"I'm guessing the villagers were at the coven with pitchforks and torches?" I asked dryly and Francis laughed.

"Actually, you're right," he answered, expression sobering up. "They waited for one of the vampires to emerge from the sewers before attacking. The vampires began to run away, not wanting to be killed by the villagers. Roderich was fast enough to catch up to one of the weaker ones and to this day he thinks it was due to hunger that the vampire turned around and attacked Roderich. There were more people at Roderich's heel so the vampire went to attack them and left Roderich bleeding on the ground. The vampire ended killing a few others and running off. Roderich knew from accompanying his step-father on raids that they would burn any of the bodies to prevent more 'evil from spreading' so to save himself from being killed he crawled towards an alleyway and hid in a crate full of garbage for 3 days. I'm still surprised he managed to stay silent, because the transformation is usually very painful. It was only until the pain stopped that he realized what he had become," Francis concluded.

"Wow," I said, a million questions in my head, wanting to know more.

"You have more questions, don't you?" Francis predicted. I nodded, grinning sheepishly. "Allez viens – I'll show you!" he exclaimed, taking me by the hand and leading me down the aisle.

"Show me what?" I asked. Francis grinned.

"You'll see!" he sang out.

* * *

**A/N: I'm starting to worry that Feliciano might start acting OOC in the later chapters. Damn you, serious subject matter! *shakes fist***

**Oh, and apparently, the whole 'new country' thing was all just a hoax. Those weren't new characters Himaruya drew, just people of those ethnicities that he knew, or something like that. **

**I was _so_ excited for a Portugal too. :/**

**Review to make me feel better! xD**


	19. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen:

We turned around and walked back towards the door Francis had pointed out as Roderich's office. We didn't even stop in front of the door when we heard a voice say, "Come in."

I didn't bother asking how Roderich knew we were there, following Francis in silently.

It was a neat, spacious room with tall, open windows. The walls were a soft shade of yellow and most of one wall was taken up by a large bookshelf, full of books from different languages; a mini library in its own right. There was a small piano to the right, in the very corner – sheets of music lying scattered on its top. The wall beside it showed pictures and diplomas from various universities. My mouth dropped as I quickly scanned the names. Impressive.

Roderich sat at a huge desk in a comfortable-looking leather chair, sheets of papers scattered all over the desk's surface. It was a huge contrast to the neatness of the rest of the room. Perched on one corner of the desk stood a black and white picture of what appeared to be Elizaveta in a flowing white dress and a bouquet of flowers, Roderich at her side in a tuxedo. I guessed it was a wedding photo – though when it was taken, I had no idea.

Roderich looked up at us curiously, putting down the book [which appeared to be a biography of Mozart written in German] he had been reading, a bookmark placed in between the pages he had been at.

"I just wanted to show Arthur some of your history," Francis answered smoothly to Roderich's unspoken question.

"I'm sorry if we're disturbing you," I apologized. Roderich shook his head.

"You aren't disturbing me. Go ahead," Roderich said, motioning towards him. "What are you planning on showing him?" Roderich asked Francis.

Francis put his hands on my shoulders [catching me off-guard] and spun me to face the door. "These," Francis said. My jaw dropped.

Unlike the other walls, which had been covered with diplomas or bookshelves, the entire wall we were now facing was full of photographs and paintings – evidently from different time periods. Francis nudged me forwards and led me towards a rather small painting, insignificant in comparison to the more extravagant paintings nearby.

"Austria," Francis told me.

"The Austria of my youth," Roderich mused from behind. My heart jumped; I hadn't heard him come behind us.

"Would you like to tell Arthur your story?" Francis asked and I turned my head slightly to see Roderich's reaction.

"I can't," Roderich said, frowning slightly. "One of the younger idiot doctors seems to have disappeared – probably on a vacation – and I have to cover his shift," Roderich replied. It hit me that the only reason Roderich was replying out loud was for my benefit only. He nodded and smiled at me before walking out of the room silently. Francis turned back to me.

"What happened afterwards?" I asked, wanting to know more.

"The moment Roderich had realized that he had become a vampire," Francis began, "it repulsed him. He tried to find ways to kill himself, which is quite difficult; there are very few ways to kill vampires, especially a newborn vampire like Roderich was."

"I'm guessing garlic and holy water aren't some of those ways," I stated and Francis laughed. "What happened next?"

"He tried to starve himself to death. It's the most surprising thing; a newborn vampire normally cannot resist temptation like that but…I suppose Roderich was so repulsed that he had turned into a vampire that he tried to kill himself through starvation. So he ran towards the countryside, where he never had to see any human being. One night, a group of deer passed where he was. He was so thirsty at that point that he grabbed a deer and sucked it dry without even realizing what he was doing. That's when it hit him; hadn't he eaten venison as a human? Was drinking animal blood any different than that? He began to adapt to this new lifestyle, using his time on music rather than trying to keep away from humans. He swam to France and then ran all the way back to Austria—"

"He _ran_ to Austria?" I asked incredulously. "And swam to France?" I added as an afterthought.

"People swim the Chanel all the time – he swam faster because we don't need to breathe, and you know how fast we can run," Francis answered impatiently.

"You don't need to _breathe_?" I interrupted again, staring at him in horror.

"We don't. But we do anyways; it's _very_ uncomfortable not having a sense of smell," Francis answered. I stared at him. Very uncomfortable indeed. "Anyways," he continued, smirking a little at my horrified expression, "Roderich began to travel across Europe, studying at the most prestigious of universities and learning all that he could. It was there that he realized that becoming a doctor would be a practical idea for him – and something he quite liked the idea of. The idea of saving human life rather than taking it away…"

"And then?" I questioned. Francis shushed me, regarding the wall of paintings with a small frown on his face. His eyes fell upon a particular one and he pushed me towards it.

"He was studying in Russia when he discovered that there were others just like him – much more civilized and refined than the ones that he had discovered in the London sewers," Francis answered, pointing at a group of figures standing on a balcony, staring down at the people below them.

I blinked in surprise as I realized that the frowning man with the flyaway strand, glasses and birth mark was Roderich. Francis chuckled.

"Painters often liked to paint Roderich's friends as Gods. They were fascinated by them." Francis moved his finger to the other man. "This is Ivan. And these," he pointed at the two women beside him, "are Katyusha and Natalia, his sisters."

"Are they still there?" I asked, peering intently at the painting.

"As they have been for who knows how long. Roderich only stayed with them for a short while before leaving to Austria again. They tried to get Roderich to drink human blood, and Roderich tried to get them to become 'vegetarian', but of course, to no avail. He left them a few decades later to pursue music in Austria. It was then when he realized how truly lonely he was. Yes, he loved playing music, but it was very lonely playing for one person. No one can live without _amour_ anyways. He decided to take up medicine and as vampires slowly turned into myth, he began interacting with more and more people – never getting too close to them, but seeking their company all the same. It was during the time when tensions between the Austro-Hungarian Empire and Serbia began to get stronger that Roderich decided to go to France to continue his medical work, not really a person for war. He tended to the patients in France, deciding there that he would make himself a companion to elevate his loneliness. When he found me dying on my hospital bed, he had just come back from watching my mother die – my father had already passed away from the disease. He knew I was alone and didn't have much time to live so he took a chance and…voila, here we are today," Francis concluded, smiling at me. I nodded absently, still trying to take in all the new information.

"And you've been with Roderich ever since?" I asked as we exited Roderich's office. Francis shook his head.

"_Non_. I was a flighty boy back then – I wanted to experience life and love and lust without Roderich's rules holding me down. I left for a few decades and travelled around Europe, bedding with beautiful women and 'dining' with rich men. To satisfy my hunger I would hunt for humans, but not innocent ones – never innocent ones. I went for the criminals – the rapists, the robbers, the people who everyone would wish dead anyways," Francis answered lightly.

I tried to shake away the image of a young girl about to be attacked by someone in a dark alleyway, Francis coming out of nowhere and killing the man dead. Would the girl be thankful, or terrified? I shuddered.

"But of course, I couldn't live with myself after killing so many people. If my mama were to see me then…" Francis shook his head sadly. "I went back to Roderich and Elizaveta, who took me back with open arms and I've been with them ever since."

We stopped in front of the last door in the hallway.

"Mon chambre," Francis announced proudly, turning the doorbell and walking in. I followed, not sure of what to expect.

The room had a large wall window akin to the one in the main room downstairs, overlooking the forest. The room was a soft pale blue; the wall furthest away from us was entirely covered in a shelf for Francis's extensive collection of CDs, the wall opposite to it was covered by a large couch. A small desk stood nearby and a few books were scattered on it.

"Do you like it?" Francis asked from behind me.

"It's very…_French_," I replied.

"I'm relieved that I don't have to keep anything from you," Francis said suddenly, lounging on the couch and watching me explore his CD collection with amusement. I paused to glance at him, only to see that he had a bit of a frown on his face.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I'm surprised you haven't fled the house, screaming bloody murder and flailing your arms," Francis answered. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm sorry if this is new to you but you're not all that scary," I told him. Francis smirked, standing up.

"Oui?" he asked, advancing closer. I moved away from the CD collection, staring at him suspiciously.

"Of course," I replied. Francis came closer. I glared at him.

"You shouldn't have said that, mon cher," Francis said teasingly, grinning and showing all of his teeth.

"You wouldn't," I said slowly as Francis growled like a lion and backed up – as though he were about to pounce at me.

I didn't even have a chance to react; it happened so fast. In a couple of seconds I went from glaring at Francis to being pinned down on the couch, Francis holding onto my body tightly, grinning lecherously at me.

"You were saying?" Francis asked me with a smirk.

"You're not terrifying, you bloody pervert. Now let go of me!" I demanded. Francis pulled me closer to his chest, his arms around my back like iron chains. I could faintly hear his heart beating – though it was much slower than a human heart's.

"Non – I think I like having you underneath me," Francis purred with a lecherous grin. I glared at him, my cheeks turning redder by the second.

"Are we interrupting something?" a voice called out from the door. Francis looked up and I saw Feliciano and an embarrassed Ludwig standing at the door.

"You know better than to not knock first," Francis chastised playfully as Feliciano flounced into the room, Ludwig tentatively following, staring at me with some horror. I hoped Ludwig couldn't sense the feelings that Francis [and I] was feeling as he walked in.

"Sorry~ but it sounded like you were having Arthur for lunch and we wanted to share too!" Feliciano joked lightly. I stared up at Francis, only to see him laughing. He finally let go of me and left me sit up, sitting down beside me and putting an arm around my shoulders.

"Actually, according to Feliciano there's going to be a big storm tonight and Antonio wants to play football," Ludwig said with a slight scowl. "He wants to prove that 'Spain' can win again."

Francis looked excited. His eyes flickered at me and he seemed to hesitate.

"Bring Arthur along!" Feliciano said excitedly. "It'll be more fun if you have a personal cheerleader on your side!" I thought I saw Ludwig roll his eyes in exasperation at Feliciano.

"Do you want to?" Francis asked me. I loved watching footy matches.

"Yes," I answered, smiling slightly. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"We'll have to wait for the thunder to start before starting," Francis answered. "It's more exciting that way."

"And the colours that the lightning makes when it hits something is so pretty!" Feliciano added excitedly.

"Will I need an umbrella?" I asked curiously. Feliciano, Ludwig and Francis started to laugh.

"Will he?" Ludwig asked Feliciano. Feliciano shook his head.

"The rain's only going to go over the town," he informed us.

"Excellent," Ludwig said.

"Let's go see if Roderich will come!" Feliciano said excitedly, grabbing Ludwig by the hand and pulling him towards the door effortlessly, even though he was shorter than and not as strong as Ludwig.

"But you know if he will or not!" Ludwig protested. "Why bother asking?"

Francis chuckled as the two excited the room, Ludwig inconspicuously closing the door as they left.

"Do you guys actually play football?" I asked, trying to picture Francis playing the sport.

"Of course we do," Francis said, sounding horrified. "It's what we do best!"

* * *

**A/N: And of course, the Paye family went into a bit of a frenzy during FIFA. Ludwig refused to talk to Antonio for days after the semi-finals.**

**Oh and you finally discover who the Volturi is. I think Aro is cast perfectly in this, don't you agree?**

**Review s'il vous plait?**


	20. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen: 

The rain had only just started to drizzle down when Francis drove me home. I felt that bizarre feeling at how out of place it felt going from Francis's world back to my own.

As Francis turned towards my house, I noticed a black car parked in the driveway. It was old, weathered and very familiar.

"Merde," he muttered under his breath. I glanced at him curiously.

"What is it?" I asked. He stared straight ahead, his mouth forming a thin line. I followed his gaze to see Alfred F. Jones standing behind his father's wheelchair, George's expression unreadable. Francis parked my truck along the side and I noticed that Alfred looked mortified.

"C'est des conneries," Francis hissed. "This is crossing the line."

"He came to warn Albert?" I asked in horror, feeling my pulse quicken. Francis nodded curtly, glaring George down from his seat. When Francis was angry he was terrifying to look at. I swallowed thickly. "Let me deal with this," I told him. Francis nodded in agreement.

"You should. But be careful – the child doesn't know anything," he told me.

"Alfred's only a couple of years younger than me," I informed Francis frostily, insulted at the word [after all, if Alfred – who was only a few years younger than I – was a child, wouldn't that mean I was too?]. Francis smirked and rolled his eyes, his anger momentarily gone.

"Get them inside so I can leave," he told me tersely, the angry look back on his face. "I'll be back for you at dusk."

"You're not staying?" I asked in surprise. I was under the impression that Francis liked stalking me.

"After you get rid of them you need to tell Albert about us," Francis said seriously. "I'd rather not be in the line of fire when he first finds out," he added with a smile.

"Bastard," I muttered under my breath, frowning as Francis laughed.

"I'll be back soon," Francis promised, leaning in to kiss my lips lightly. My heart leapt and I wondered what George's reaction would be to our kiss.

I stepped out of the truck, jogging towards the door, a hand on my head in an attempt to shield it from the rain. I joined the other two males on the porch.

"Hullo Al, George," I greeted, shaking the rain out of my hair casually, as though nothing were wrong. "Albert's not actually here – hope you weren't waiting long," I said cheerfully, wondering if I seemed normal enough. I fished out my keys and opened the door, letting Alfred and George in first.

George stared at me for a few seconds silently. "Not very long," he finally said, lifting up a parcel. "I brought some fish for Albert from Frederick Beilschmidt's homemade fish fry – I know how much he loves the stuff," George said, rolling in. I followed him inside, remembering very faintly Albert's friend Frederick Beilschmidt, and his obnoxious son who used to push me onto the ground when we were kids. I suppressed a shudder, closing the door behind us, trying to ignore the stare George was giving me.

"This can go into the fridge, right?" I asked as we went to the kitchen. George nodded, not saying anything. I laughed lightly. "I guess I'll have to figure out ways to cook all this fish since Albert's probably going to come home with more fish," I joked.

George tiled his head curiously. "He's fishing again? Is he at the usual spot?" George asked hopefully, a certain glint in his eyes. I panicked internally.

"N-no," I stammered quickly, looking away. "He's trying out a new place I think – don't know where, though," I lied quickly.

George stared at me thoughtfully for a few moments. I flushed and busied myself by putting the fish inside of the fridge.

"Al," George said suddenly. Both of us glanced at Alfred, who was looking surprisingly morose. Alfred looked up at us momentarily before staring at the ground steadily.

"Yeah?" he asked, sounding upset about something.

"How about you go get that picture of Sarah from the car? I know Albert's been wanting to see how she's been so I'll leave that for him too," George said to his son. Alfred nodded silently and stalked out of the house. George seemed to be waiting for the tell-tale close of the door before speaking again.

I cut in before he could open his mouth. "Albert's not going to be back for a while," I told him. George nodded. A terse silence followed, the only noise being the light pitter-patter of the rain against the windows.

"Arthur," George said finally, staring at me. "Albert is one of my closest friends," he began. "And I've noticed that you've been spending time with one of the Paye boys."

"Yes I have," I answered curtly.

"Perhaps it's not my business, but I don't think that's a good idea at all."

"You're right," I agreed, "It's none of your business at all." I was surprised at the rudeness in my voice.

George sighed and nodded. "The Payes don't have a good reputation in Riverside," he told me.

"I know all about that," I replied. "But the reputation is uncalled for, is it not? After all, the Payes have never set foot in Riverside," I told him. The fact I knew this surprised George.

"You seem to know more about them than I expected," he replied.

"More than possibly you do," I said back.

George frowned. "Perhaps," he said. "Is Albert also as well informed?" he asked, finding the weak spot in my defence.

"He likes the Payes a lot," I replied, hoping the uncertainty wasn't showing in my voice.

"It's not my business," George acknowledged, "but wouldn't it be Albert's?"

"Whether it is or isn't really is my business, don't you think?" I responded and he nodded slowly.

"Just think about what you're doing," he urged.

"I have," I replied. I could see the concern in George's eyes and there wasn't much for me to say anymore.

"Does he know about you being…?" George questioned after a pause. I flushed and looked away, shaking my head. George smiled slightly. "Albert's a good man. He'll accept it."

Just then the door slammed open and I flinched at the loudness.

"There's no picture in the car!" Alfred whined from the door, stomping into the kitchen – looking thoroughly miffed.

"Really?" George asked in surprise. "I guess I must've forgotten it."

"Are you serious?" Alfred exclaimed, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Well, Arthur, it was nice talking to you," George said, glancing at me. "Tell Albert that we stopped by."

"We're leaving _already_?" Alfred asked incredulously.

"Albert's going to be out late," George informed his son, wheeling away. Alfred pouted as we followed him to the door.

"Later Arthur," Alfred said in a disappointed voice, glancing at me briefly.

"Take care," George said seriously. I didn't reply back, settling on waving them goodbye as they left the house and got into the car. I noticed my truck still at side of the road, now empty. A part of me relaxed for a moment when I saw them drive away before realizing Albert would be getting home soon and I would have another problem on my hands. I jogged up the stairs to change out of my rather dressy clothes and into something plainer and more comfortable. I attempted to figure out what to say to Albert when he got home and gave up on it; it was making my stomach clench nervously.

I went back downstairs in an old frayed shirt with jeans and plopped down on the sofa, flicking the TV on and trying to find something to watch that could distract me.

It wasn't until halfway through a dramatic detective show that I heard Albert pull up into the driveway and into the garage. Good lord, save my soul.

I pretended to keep watching television, hearing Albert stomp into the house and into the kitchen. From the sounds of it, he was putting the fish he had caught into the fridge.

I flicked off the TV and walked towards the kitchen. "Hey dad," I greeted him casually. "Good catch?"

"The best," Albert said happily. "I brought some take-out so you don't have tire yourself out on cooking," Albert added.

"That's nice of you," I replied, opening the bags and feeling the steam rise into my face.

"I also didn't feel like dying," Albert added and I scowled at him. After Albert got cleaned up, I took two plates and set them at the table, pouring the cartons of noodles and stir-fry onto them. "So I hear from Officer Martin that you and one of the Paye kids have become pretty good friends," he said casually as we tucked in.

I choked on a stray noodle. "Who told you that?" I gasped out, chugging the glass of water nearby me.

"Officer Martin found out from his son, Peter." Curses, Peter! I made a mental note to punch the boy the next time we saw each other. "So are you friends?" Albert asked me curiously.

I swallowed thickly, no longer choking. "No…" I answered finally. This was it; my stomach clenched nervously and I suddenly couldn't eat.

"Then why are you two always together?" Albert asked, confused.

"We're dating," I said finally. _God_, saying that out loud had been difficult. There was a dead silence as Albert stared at me.

"What?" Albert asked, looking like he hadn't heard me clearly.

"We're dating," I repeated slowly, staring my father dead in the eye. "He's my boyfriend and… I'm gay."

Albert stared at me for a few moments. "Oh," he said, turning back to his food. Oh? _Oh_? "I always wondered if you were," he added as an afterthought. Had my homosexuality been_ that_ obvious?

"How?" I asked incredulously, feeling my face heat up.

"I think it was the sweater vests," Albert muttered, looking a little sheepish. "So you're dating that Paye kid? Which one?" he asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Francis."

"Which one is that?"

"He's the blonde, French one."

"I thought you didn't like French stuff," Albert said in slight surprise. I blushed.

"Well, I like him," I muttered, feeling embarrassed.

"Isn't he a little old for you?" Albert questioned.

"We're the same age," I answered. That wasn't entirely off base – physically, Francis was 17.

"He seems much older than that," Albert remarked and I agreed internally.

"He's coming over in a few hours," I spoke up suddenly. "We kind of went to his house so I could meet his family…and he wants to meet you."

"H-he does?" Albert asked, looking surprised. "He's coming over_ today_?"

"Yes…we're going to go play football with his family," I replied. Albert snorted.

"I've never seen you play a sport in your life," he teased. I blushed furiously.

"I can play football!" I exclaimed. "But I'm probably just going to sit on the sidelines; there would be an odd number otherwise," I added, mentally adding that I wouldn't be able to keep up with the vampires' speed anyways.

We continued eating in silence, the only sounds being the rain still pouring down and the clinking of our forks on the plates. The moment we both finished I stood up to wash them. Albert stopped me.

"No let me do it – I feel like you're babying me," Albert chastised, grabbing the plates from me and stalking towards the sink. An engine roared from outside and we both heard the sounds of a car pulling up in our driveway. Albert froze. He put the dishes down in the sink. "I'll wash them later," he said suddenly, turning and walking to the door. I blanched, following – trying to get to the door before Albert could and potentially embarrass me.

"Bonjour Monsieur Kirkland!" Francis greeted Albert airily from the porch. His eyes twinkled at me.

"Call me Albert," Albert replied, moving aside to let Francis inside the house. Francis did so, smiling at me widely. I could see Albert staring at us from the corner of my eye. "Please, take a seat," Albert said, motioning towards the couch. I rolled my eyes as Francis proceeded to do so, looking around with interest – as though he had never been inside my house before.

Francis sat down on the loveseat, motioning at me inconspicuously to sit down beside him. I did as told, feeling my face heat up. Albert sat down on the armchair, staring at Francis with slight suspicion.

"So you're going to be playing football now, are you?" Albert said finally to Francis. Francis nodded. He didn't seem surprised at all that Albert knew what we were going to do; I wondered absently if Francis had listened to our conversation and cringed at the thought.

"It's the perfect weather to do so," Francis answered and I was surprised to see Albert nod in agreement.

"Well, we should get going," I said loudly, feeling considerably awkward. I stood up quickly.

"Not too late," Albert said quickly and I scowled as Francis laughed.

"I'm not a girl!" I protested furiously.

"Don't worry sir, I'll bring him home early," Francis promised me. We walked towards the door, Albert following us. I prayed he wouldn't say anything too embarrassing.

"Bye dad," I said to him. Albert nodded at me.

"Be careful," he murmured before Francis and I jogged out into the rain, me freezing in utter surprise when I saw what Francis had used to drive here.

"Is that a jeep?" I asked in awe, taking in the massiveness of the car.

"It's Antonio's," Francis informed me. "We need an off-road vehicle like this to get to where we're going."

As I climbed into the passenger's seat, I heard Albert call out, "Wear your seatbelts!" I flushed as Francis burst out laughing, feeling my cheeks turn red. I waved him goodbye as Francis took off, driving away from the house quickly. I fiddled with the off-road harness and I scowled while Francis smirked at me, sans seatbelt.

We drove down the roads in the dark. I didn't bother checking to see how fast we were going; I didn't want to know. Francis made a sharp turn and we drove down a worn out footpath through the forest. The moment it came to an end Francis stopped the jeep and I noticed that I had been shaking in terror the entire time; sure that Francis was going to crash.

"We'll have to go by foot now," Francis informed me, already getting out of his seat. I paled.

"No, I think I'll stay here, thanks," I told him cheerfully, sinking into my seat. Francis rolled his eyes, striding to my side of car. He opened the door and began undoing my harness, ignoring the feeble smacks I gave him to make him let go.

"Arthur, are you really scared of me hitting a tree?" Francis asked in exasperation when I refused to get out of my seat.

"I'm not scared that _you're_ going to hit a tree…"I muttered. Francis sighed.

"I suppose I'll have to convince you that you'll be safe," Francis said, leaning in.

"W-what are you going to do?" I stammered as Francis practically climbed on top of me.

"You're not going to hit a tree," Francis murmured, kissing my jaw line. I could feel the blood rush to my face. "I won't let you hit a tree," he continued, kissing my neck. "There's nothing to be afraid of, is there?" he whispered, his cold lips brushing against mine.

"N-no," I breathed out, partially terrified. Francis smirked, his hand running up and down my thigh.

"Good," he murmured, leaning in closer and pressing his lips against mine. It was a short kiss, yet successfully managed to daze me. I barely registered Francis pulling me out of the seat and onto his back. I rested my head on the back of his neck, trying to control my breathing and think clearly as he began to run. My senses only returned to me after Francis made a sharp turn, startling me back to reality. The nausea from moving so quickly came over me, and I buried my face into Francis's shoulder to keep me from throwing up everywhere.

And just like that, he stopped – smoothly, of course. "Arthur," he said to me, "we're here."

I numbly slid off of Francis's back, dizzily falling onto the ground on my behind. Francis turned and stared at me. I stared back in confusion. I suppose the expression on my face must've been amusing as Francis burst out into laughter. I glared at him and stood up, blinking a few times to make sure I wasn't seeing two of everything.

"Shut up," I muttered as Francis continued laughing.

"You're so amusing, mon petit chou," Francis said cheerily, kissing the top of my head. I flushed and pushed him away, stalking off towards the trees. "You're going the wrong way, mon cher!" Francis called out. I gave him a death glare, turned around and continued walking. Francis rolled his eyes and caught up to me, taking hold of my hand and leading me in the proper direction.

The others were already setting up for the game when we arrived – or at least, that's what I think they were doing. The open field they were going to play the footy match on was three times bigger than any more football field. In the very, very far distance I thought I could see Roderich setting up a goal post. A part of me wondered if Roderich would be playing too, and thought the imagery was rather amusing.

Not too far away I could see Feliciano and Ludwig. They seemed to be kicking a ball back and forth between each other, but the ball was moving too fast for me to see. There were a group of large flat rocks nearby Francis and I, and I could see Elizaveta, Antonio and Lovino sitting, chatting amongst themselves.

The moment Francis and I neared, Elizaveta sprung to her feet, looking delighted at the fact we were holding hands. Lovino stared at us and stood up abruptly, stalking off in another direction. Antonio stared at us, and then back to his lover. He shrugged and ran up to us, a large smile on his face.

"Was that you we heard a few minutes ago?" Elizaveta asked Francis as she neared.

"Lovino thought it was a bear choking to death!" Antonio added in amusement. I smirked.

"That was him," I clarified to Elizaveta, still feeling awkward with Antonio there.

"Arthur fell down and looked hilarious doing so," Francis added, making me blush and Antonio laugh.

Feliciano ran towards us, his kicking game with Ludwig long forgotten, coming to a complete stop in front of us. "It's time!" he exclaimed excitedly, throwing his hands up. Just as he made the arm motion, a deep rumble of thunder shook the forest. My jaw dropped at the accuracy.

"It's always surprising when he does that," Antonio remarked to me.

"Come on, Antonio! You can be on my team with Ludwig! Fratello says he doesn't want to be on the same team as 'the potato bastard' but I don't get it – Ludwig doesn't even eat potatoes!" Feliciano said as he grabbed Antonio by the arm and dragged him away.

Francis grinned and leaned in, kissing my lips gently before running off to join them – presumably on Lovino and Roderich's team. Elizaveta let out a squeal.

"Aren't you going to play?" I asked curiously as she motioned for me to follow her to the side of the field. Elizaveta shook her head.

"Oh, no – I'm referring because they have a tendency to cheat," she replied airily. "Besides, they all think that since I'm a girl, they might accidently hurt me while playing," she added, rolling her eyes. "_Please_ – when Roddy first met me, I was 10 and he thought I was a boy."

I stared at her, trying to wrap my mind around the idea that an adult Roderich might've met a child Elizaveta, not knowing that many years later, they would be marrying.

"So they like to cheat, do they?" I said, going back to her previous statement, giving up on trying to wrap my mind around that idea.

"Oh yes, loads. Feli gets away with it the most because he's such a darling and no one would think he would cheat. Hopefully the boys are on their best behaviour – Francis and Lovino like to argue over whether their goals counted or not," Elizaveta added, affection clear in her voice.

"You sound like my mother," I remarked, surprised. Elizaveta smiled gently.

"I _do_ think of them as my sons, after all. Did Francis ever tell you that my own baby died?" she asked me suddenly. I blinked.

"N-no, he hadn't," I said, surprised.

"Yes… my first and only little baby. He was the cutest thing ever but he died a few days after I gave birth to him. I was so depressed, that's why I jumped off the cliff," Elizaveta said casually. I blanched.

"Francis said you fell," I told her.

"Did he? I suppose that's Francis for you, trying to leave out all the gory details. He was my very first son in my new life – I've always considered him as such, even though technically he's older than me. He's such a sweet son too – on mother's day he would always give me pictures of two boys together…" Elizaveta trailed off suddenly, looking blissfully happy and I shuddered.

"Uh…Elizaveta?"

"Hmm?" Elizaveta blinked and smiled sheepishly. "Whoops. Anyways, I'm so happy that he's finally found you – it broke my heart watching him be the odd man out for so long. Besides, he was dating way too many females for my liking," she added darkly under her breath. I decided not to press the issue.

"So you don't think I'm bad for him?" I asked her hesitantly, wanting to get the 'mother' of Francis's approval.

"He wants you, and I respect his choice. I just want him to be happy. Besides – you're cute," she added, making me blush and her laugh. There was a sudden flash of light and the low rumble of thunder followed, making me jump in slight surprised. She giggled at my reaction, making me blush harder but it pleased me that I was getting along so well with someone from Francis's family.

When we finally stopped walking I noticed a battered looking soccer ball lying nearby. She motioned for me to stay as she picked it up, jogging towards the middle of the field. Lovino and Feliciano met up with her in the middle and she held it in the air. I couldn't hear what was being said, but I guessed she was probably reminding them of the rules to the game. She then dropped the ball and suddenly, I couldn't see it anymore.

I knew they were kicking _something,_ as I could see Lovino yell something to Francis and make a kicking motion with his leg. Antonio flew past Francis in a blur and Francis let out a howl; Antonio had the ball now. He dodged Lovino and made his way towards Roderich in the goal post. He kicked the ball as hard as he could, sending it straight towards an empty spot that Roderich wasn't at.

"Goal," I murmured under my breath.

Elizaveta smiled. "Just wait," she said, eyes still following Antonio. Just as the ball was flying towards the goal post, Francis appeared out of nowhere, the ball hitting him in the chest and flying off. Lovino ran towards the ball and kicked it, running towards Ludwig in the opposition's goal post. Francis flew by a confused looking Antonio.

"Oh," I said in awe.

"Oh," she agreed.

I watched the rest the game with renewed interest, amazed at how fast everyone moved. The score kept changing constantly – first Lovino's team, then Feliciano's team and so on. It amused me to see how normal they were – every time they scored, they would jeer on their opposition.

When the score was 9-10, Feliciano's team winning, Feliciano had the ball. He was trying to keep off Lovino from stealing it when he suddenly froze, standing straight up – his mouth formed into a perfect 'o'.

Everyone froze, eyes trained on him. Francis's and Feliciano's eyes met and Francis looked horrified, running to Feliciano.

Elizaveta and I jogged onto the field. Well, I ran – she walked quickly.

"What's wrong?" she asked Feliciano, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I didn't see it too well," Feliciano replied quietly. At this point Antonio, Roderich and Ludwig had approached us and Ludwig put his arms around Feliciano.

"What did you see?" Roderich asked calmly.

"T-they were travelling faster than I thought. I t-think I might've got the perspective wrong when I first saw it," Feliciano whispered.

"What changed?" Ludwig asked quietly, looking worried.

"They heard us playing, they changed their course," Feliciano answered guiltily. I saw everyone glance at me quickly before turning their attention back to Feliciano.

"Do you think there's enough time to get him back on time?" Roderich asked Francis. Francis shook his head slowly.

"They could smell his scent and cause them to start hunting," Francis answered.

"How much time do we have?" Roderich asked Feliciano. Feliciano scrunched his face up in concentration.

"Less than five minutes," he said finally. Roderich frowned but didn't say anything. "I think they want to play with us."

"How many are there?" Antonio asked curiously.

"Three," Feliciano answered easily. Antonio made a face.

"That'll make the teams uneven – someone will have to sit out," he remarked. Francis stared at his brother with disbelief.

The group watched Roderich frown thoughtfully to himself, everyone looking tense. Everyone, except for Antonio actually – he was still trying to figure out who should sit out.

"Let's just continue the game. Feliciano didn't say anything about them being dangerous; they're probably just curious that there is some of our kind here," Roderich finally decided.

Just in case you're wondering, all of this deliberation happened in a moment of seconds. I barely caught it, but managed to pick up enough to figure out what was happening. I'm pretty sure that if I were to have sneezed, the entire exchange would've happened and I would have no idea what just occurred.

I saw Elizaveta murmur something to Francis, to which Francis seemed to answer with a slight shake of his head. She seemed relieved about something.

"You can play now Elizaveta," Francis said in a louder voice. "I'll sit out."

"But we need someone else to sit out so the teams are even!" Antonio protested. Lovino slapped his lover on the back of his head.

"Idiota," he muttered, stalking off to his side of the field.

Francis walked to me and led me back to the sidelines, kissing my face profusely. I blinked at him as he pulled me into a big hug.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at him.

"Trying to cover your scent," Francis hissed back, not pausing in his PDA. I could see Elizaveta's eyes gleam with delight though worry still lingered on her face.

"What did Elizaveta ask you just now?" I asked as he kissed my neck over and over again, intent on making sure it didn't seem as tantalizing as it normally did.

"Whether they were hungry or not," Francis answered absently.

"And are they?" I demanded, cursing my heart for overreacting to Francis's touch.

Francis paused for a fraction of a second. "No," he answered.

I squirmed uncomfortably as Francis clung to me, trying to cover my scent up with his own as much as he possibly could.

I watched the game continue on, though it wasn't as entertaining as it was before. Everyone seemed to be tense and I could see them look around at the trees surrounding the fields, wondering where the visitors could be coming from.

"This was a bad idea," Francis murmured suddenly. "Je suis désolé – I shouldn't have done that; I've endangered you."

Before I could even reply, Francis gasped and stared to the right of us. The others froze too, all turning to look in that one direction. Francis let go of me and moved slightly in front, as though he were to block me from danger.

My breath hitched as I turned to stare in the same direction.

The visitors were here.

* * *

**A/N: Fun fact: George and Albert's friend Frederick Beilschmidt is playing the character Harry Clearwater in this. I think y'all might be able to guess who his son is, and anyone who's read Twilight - what character he'll be playing. **

**Oooh, so close! Up until this point, y'all were telling me how I casted each character perfectly and how it suits them so well. Yeah well, James, Victoria and Laurent are not casted perfectly. In my opinion, it's pretty crack. The character playing Victoria is the only one I have a reason for casting. The other two...they're just characters I threw in xD **

**AND OMGOSH GAIZ. 200+ REVIEWS? REALLY? It happened yesterday and omgosh, I love you all so bleedin' much [LOL GET IT?_ BLEED_IN'?] and I can't believe this story's gotten so many reviews. Hopefully the sequel will get just as many ;D **

**REVIEW? *puppy dog eyes***


	21. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty:

They came out one after another from the trees, only a few meters apart. The first man who came out into the field paused and waited for another man to join him, letting this new man lead on – even though he looked much younger. The third man was more boy-like than the others, gracefully running up to them to keep up. I noticed that they were all of Oriental Asian decent, their pupils a strange black-red colour.

They approached our group cautiously, reminding me of those documentaries I would watch with my mother as a child, when the predators approached another group of their own kind.

Although they started off walking in a cat-like, hunter-like gait, they smoothed into a more distinguished, human-like walk when they caught sight of us.

They stopped directly in front of us. The presumed leader had long side bangs covering a side of his face; his eyebrows strangely like mine. His face was expressionless as he gazed at us.

The youngest of them stared at us curiously, eyes darting from each of our faces. He had a curl off the side of his head, not unlike Feliciano's or Lovino's. His clothes seemed to be too big for him as he was adjusting his too-long sleeves. The last man seemed the oldest of the trio, his shimmering black hair pulled into a low ponytail. He watched us with untrusting eyes.

The presumed leader stepped forwards towards Roderich.

"We thought we heard a game," he said to Roderich, his face still devoid of emotion. His voice had only the slightest accent to it – though I couldn't place where it was from. "I'm Li and these are Yao and Yong Soo," he introduced, motioning to his two comrades.

"I am Roderich. This is my family – Antonio, Ludwig, Lovino, Feliciano, Elizaveta, Arthur and Francis," Roderich introduced casually. I tried not to show the surprise I felt at being grouped in with the others.

"Do you have room for more players?" Li asked Roderich. I found his emotionless voice rather irritating; I had no idea whether he was being friendly or each and every one of us.

"Actually, we just finished," Roderich said. I saw Antonio open his mouth to argue and Lovino step on his foot. "Perhaps another time. Are you planning on staying here for long?" Roderich asked curiously.

"We're actually heading towards Scotland; we didn't think anyone would be living here," Li answered easily.

"Oh, we're the only ones living in this region. The only others we see are the occasional visitors, such as yourselves," Roderich replied casually and I was amazed at how what seemed to be an uncomfortable, tense atmosphere slowly turned into a casual comfortable one. I supposed that Ludwig must've been working his unusual gift to make sure nothing bad happened.

"Where do you hunt then?" Li asked.

Roderich blinked once at the assumption that they drank human blood before answering. "Just up here and a bit further north," he answered lightly. "We have a permanent residence nearby and there's another permanent residence like this in Greece – we're good friends with that clan," Roderich continued.

An eyebrow rose; the only form of expression on Li's face. "Permanent? How do you manage to stay here?" he asked, a bit of curiosity leaking into his voice.

"Perhaps we can talk about this in our home? I'm afraid that our story is a bit of a long one," Roderich answered smoothly, glancing at Francis quickly. I understood what Roderich was planning on doing. He wanted to bring the visitors to their home and use that opportunity for Francis to take me home, away from danger.

Yao and Yong Soo looked surprised when Roderich said 'home'. Yong Soo looked like he was about to say something, but like Lovino with Antonio, Yao stepped on his foot to silence him.

Li nodded. "That sounds good. We were hunting in London and we haven't had time to clean ourselves up," Li said, motioning to his dirtied attire, along with Yao's and Yong Soo's. A shiver when down my spine when he mentioned London and I momentarily panicked, hoping they didn't attack any of my old friends until I remembered that I had no friends in London.

"Of course," Roderich said nodding. "But please, I have to ask you to refrain from hunting in this area – we are trying to stay inconspicuous," he added.

Li nodded again. "We ate an hour ago; I don't think we'll need to be eating for a while," he answered smoothly and I felt another shiver crawl down my spine.

"Antonio, Feliciano – how about you two help Arthur and Francis get the jeep?" Roderich asked casually, turning to the two boys.

Just as the four of us were about to make our move away from the visitors, a light breeze blew past us. I blanched as my scent hit the nostrils' of the three carnivore vampires.

Yao stepped forwards, his eyes widening and nostrils flaring open. Francis pushed me behind him, a dark look growing on his face. Yao stopped and stared at Francis curiously, as did Yong Soo and Li.

"You brought a human with you?" Li asked, surprise colouring his voice. He blinked a few times as he registered the sight of me, his face still blank.

"He's with us," Roderich said calmly, staring at Yao as he stared Francis down.

"A snack, aru?" Yao asked curiously, stepping forwards again.

"_Non_," Francis replied, a feral growl growing from the base of his throat. I fought the urge to cower in fear; Francis sounded pretty fucking scary right about then.

"He's with us," Roderich repeated in a hard voice, a deep frown on his face.

"But he's human," Li stated, a twinge of confusion appearing on his face.

"So?" Antonio asked. I blinked twice; the perpetual smile was off Antonio's face as he stood next to his father figure, his eyes narrowing. I gulped.

Yao took a step back, still staring at me intently…hungrily.

"I suppose we are much different from each other than I originally thought," Li said calmly, trying to ease the atmosphere into a more comfortable one.

"Yes," Roderich agreed, his voice still cool.

"Regardless, we accept your invitation. And of course, we will not hurt the human boy – we promised not to hunt in this area, after all," Li said. Yao shot him an incredulous look from behind and Yong Soo looked confused.

Roderich stared at Li for a few moments before glancing towards Francis questioningly. Francis shook his head ever so slightly, still staring Yao down with anger in his eyes.

"Very well," Roderich said finally. "Elizaveta, Ludwig, Lovino?" he asked, motioning them to follow him. The three of them stood with Roderich, successfully blocking me from view before leading the others away. Feliciano was at my side at an instant, grabbing onto my right hand with his own, letting Francis take my other. Antonio was behind us, a slight frown still on his face.

The four of us walked in silence. I struggled to keep up with their speed, which, even though at a human pace, was still too fast for me.

The moment we got into the forest and were covered by trees Feliciano let go of my hand, letting Francis grab me and swing me onto his shoulder, running towards the jeep. The other two followed closely. I concentrated on not feeling nauseous, images of what just happened in my eyes.

We reached the Jeep in what seemed like seconds. Francis didn't stop running as Feliciano ran ahead to open the backseat door. He threw me in, making me momentarily lose my breath.

"Strap him in," Francis ordered to Antonio, who had climbed in with me. He busied himself with strapping me down while Feliciano joined Francis in the front seat. I could hear Francis say something, but it was too fast for me to hear and was most definitely not English. I supposed that by the tone of his voice he was stringing together a large amount of profanities.

He drove off, much faster than he ever had. Trees and houses flew past and it wasn't until I saw my house fly by that Francis was taking me out of the city.

"Where are we going?" I asked shakily. No one answered, all of them focused on the road.

I decided to try again.

"Where are we going?" there was more anger in my voice as I realized I was leaving Albert alone without even a goodbye. "Fucking dammit Francis, where are you taking me?" I yelled, punching the seat angrily with a fist.

"Away from here – far away," Francis finally answered. "I don't know where, though."

"Spain's really nice this time of the year," Antonio mused cheerfully, totally not reading the tense atmosphere at all.

"Spain? I can't go to Spain – I need to talk to my father, Francis! You promised you'd take me home early!" I yelled, panicking. What if that Yao guy went to my father in search of me?

"Calm down," Francis said irritably.

"I_ won't_ calm down!" I yelled. "If I don't get home on time Albert's going to fucking call the higher authorities and get a search done on your family! It'll ruin everything!"

"It's alright, we can start over somewhere else – it's happened before," Francis answered in a hard voice.

"Over my dead body it will!" I yelled and saw him flinch. Perhaps that wasn't the best thing to say at this moment. "I need to get back!"

"Ve~ pull over, fratello," Feliciano said softly for the first time. Francis gave him an incredulous look. "Francis please," Feliciano begged. "We need to reason."

"You don't get it Feli – that guy is a tracker!" Francis exclaimed loudly, anger dripping in his voice. I saw Antonio freeze in shock at the word, and wondered what it meant. "The moment he smelt Arthur's blood he was after him – I can't keep him in this town while Yao is here!"

"Pull over," Feliciano said – and suddenly all the child-like innocence his voice normally had disappeared. His voice was serious and calm and really scared the shit out of me [and Antonio too].

"I can't send him home," Francis said through gritted teeth, "Yao'll find him sooner or later thanks to his scent."

"But he'll find my dad there!" I yelled. "I don't want my father to die!"

"Listen to him, fratello," Feliciano begged.

"Take him back," Antonio finally said, joining the conversation. Francis gave him a death-glare.

"No!" he howled, still not slowing down the Jeep.

"Listen to me Franny – Yao's not strong enough for all 5 of us – we can take him down!" Antonio said confidently. If it were any other situation than the one we were in right then and there, I would've laughed at the nickname Antonio gave Francis.

"He's unshakable during a hunt. We'll have to kill him," Francis protested.

Antonio looked confused. "So?" he asked and I suddenly felt the urge to inch away from him.

"And the young one too; they're mates. And if this turns into a fight we'll have to fight off the leader too," Francis added.

"We can do it!" Antonio said enthusiastically.

"And there's another option!" Feliciano added, just as enthusiastically.

"THERE IS NO OTHER OPTION!" Francis yelled, almost permanently damaging my ears. Antonio and I stared at him in horror. Feliciano didn't even flinch, staring at Francis with his innocent puppy-dog eyes. They stared each other down.

"Does anyone want to hear _my_ plan?" I asked curiously into the silence.

"Non," Francis said rudely, still glaring at Feliciano. Feliciano made a face.

"Yes!" he said, turning to me.

"You take me back," I began, glaring at Francis as he began to shake his head, "and I tell dad that I want to move back to London. I pack my shit up, wait til that Yao guy is watching then run off. He'll leave Albert alone and follow us and Albert won't send the higher authorities after your family and then you can take me to Spain or whatever the fuck you're thinking of taking me," I concluded.

The three brothers exchanged a look.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," Antonio remarked and I felt significantly insulted.

"We shouldn't leave his padre unprotected like that," Feliciano begged.

"It's too dangerous," Francis muttered.

"Franny, he'll have to go through all of us – that would be hard~" Antonio said and I wondered how he could manage to stay so cheerful.

"I_ demand_ you take me home_ now_," I growled as angrily as I could.

Francis closed his eyes momentarily and sighed. I had a mini panic attack as the Jeep continued to drive forwards.

"Please," I added hopefully.

"You're leaving tonight. I don't care if Yao doesn't see you or does see you. You tell Albert you're leaving for London and just pack the first things you can find. Get into your truck and drive off. You have exactly fifteen minutes the moment you cross the doorstep," Francis said finally.

I nodded and he did a sudden U-turn, sending me flying to the side. He was suddenly going much faster than before and I decided not to look out the windows for my own safety.

"When we get to the house, I will walk Arthur to the door if Yao isn't there already, waiting for him. Antonio, guard the outside of the house and Feli, you get the truck. I'll be inside with Arthur away from Albert's view and when Arthur gets out of the house, you two take the Jeep home and tell Roderich the plan," Francis said as he drove back towards the town.

"No! I'm with you, hermano," Antonio protested.

"I don't know how long I'll be gone," Francis said tensely.

"I'll be with you until we figure out how long we're going to be gone," Antonio replied.

"If Yao is already there, we're going to keep on driving," Francis said. I wondered vaguely how we could keep on driving without losing gas.

"We'll get there before Yao," Feliciano said confidently.

"Bon," Francis said with a curt nod, turning his attention to the road in front of us.

"What about the Jeep?" Feliciano asked curiously.

"You're driving it home."

"No I'm not," Feliciano replied. Francis swore under his breath. It hit me that we probably couldn't all fit in my truck, but didn't say anything.

"You should let me go alone," I said.

"Non," Francis growled.

"Albert's not an idiot, he'll think something is up if I leave and you're not there either. He'll think we ran off together or something," I added, blushing slightly. "And besides, that tracker guy knows you'll be with me – the way you acted probably proved that we're…together."

"You should listen to him," Antonio said, sounding just as insultingly surprised as before, "I think he has a point."

"He does!" Feliciano agreed.

"I will not do that," Francis said coldly.

"Antonio should stay too," I added. Antonio looked surprised.

"What?"

"You'll be able to get Yao better if you're here," Feliciano said, agreeing. I was pleased that _someone_ was on my side.

"You want me to leave him alone?" Francis asked incredulously.

"Ludwig and I will take care of him!" Feliciano said enthusiastically. Francis's eye twitched.

"I can't do that," he said.

"Just stay here for a few days until Albert knows you didn't leave with me and lead Yao on a wild-goose chase. Get Yao off my trail and then come meet me and Ludwig and Feliciano can go home."

"Meet you where?" Francis asked. I was surprised he was actually considering my plan.

"London, of course."

"He'll hear where you're going," Francis protested.

"But will he really think I'm going there? He knows we're saying it loud enough for him to hear, so he'll think we're actually going somewhere else," I answered smoothly.

"He's good," Antonio said in awe.

"What if that doesn't work?"

"There are a drillion people in London; it'll take some time for him to find me," I answered confidently.

"Kirkland is probably a not very common surname. He'll find your house in no time."

"Who said anything about me going home?"

"Oh?"

"I'm old enough to live alone."

"And Ludwig and I will be with him!" Feliciano chirped from his seat.

"And what are _you_ going to do in London? It's probably not as misty and foggy as it is here," Francis pointed out. Feliciano shrugged.

"I'll stay inside and paint," he replied.

"It sounds like a good idea!" Antonio added in cheerfully.

"Shut up, Antonio."

"If we try to attack him with Arthur still here, there's a good chance of him getting hurt – or you getting hurt trying to protect him. At least if he weren't here we'd get a better chance of getting Yao," Antonio said, a rather sadistic looking smile on his face. I began to inch further away from him.

We entered the town, almost nearing my home. I suddenly realized was I was about to do to my father and my stomach churned guiltily.

"Arthur," Francis said gently, and I noticed Feliciano and Antonio look out the window tactfully. "If you let anything happen to you, I swear I will blame you and only you. Understand?"

"Completely," I replied quietly.

"Is Ludwig able to do this?" he asked Feliciano.

"He's been doing very well so far!" Feliciano said enthusiastically. "I think he can do it! Ludwig's so big and strong and smart so he won't do anything bad because I know he'll know better than-"

"Are _you_ able to do this?" Francis interrupted.

Feliciano stopped talking and blinked at Francis. He let out a quiet growl that left me staring at the bubbly Italian with my jaw open.

Francis chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Just keep your opinions to yourself, though," he murmured to his brother quietly.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah, told ya James's coven was going to be weirdly casted. I only have a reason for Yong Soo being Victoria, though. The first person I told about my idea to write this story was my Korean friend named Victoria and she edited the first few chapters so that they were failtastic. I just put Hong Kong [Li] and China there is because I wanted it to be the Asians and because Yao is pretty beast when he's doing his awesome Kung Fu moves and stuff C: **

**Review?**


	22. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One:

I could tell that my father was waiting for me to come home; the lights were all on. I racked my brain for ways to tell my father that I was leaving. My heart was heavy as I realized that there was no way to do it without hurting his feelings.

We pulled up behind my parked truck in the driveway, my stomach clenching nervously. Francis turned off the Jeep and we sat in silence, listening for signs of Yao being nearby.

"He isn't here," Francis said a momentary flicker of relief in his eyes. "Allons-y."

Antonio helped me get out of my harness quickly. Before I could even open the door, he enveloped me in a big hug.

"Don't worry, Arthur – we'll take care of everything," he reassured me in a quiet but still cheerful voice. I nodded, waiting for Antonio to release me so I can exit the Jeep.

Francis nodded at Feliciano and Antonio and the two cheerful boys slinked away into the darkness, away from us. I turned to Francis, who was looking around tensely.

"You have fifteen minutes," he reminded me as we walked up to the porch. I could faintly hear the TV playing from inside and the uncomfortably guilty feeling in my stomach intensified.

I raised my hand to open the doorknob, before letting it falling. I turned to Francis, who was staring at me in confusion.

"I love you," I muttered, feeling my cheeks turn red. "I-I…always will."

"Nothing's going to happen to you, mon chou," Francis promised, pulling me close to him; guessing correctly at the sudden declaration from me. "I love you too," he whispered. "Now, we have to hurry," he said anxiously.

I paused and stared into his blue eyes. In a quick movement I grabbed Francis by the collar and pulled him towards me, kissing him as strongly as I could muster. "Ignore everything I'm about to say," I said.

Before Francis could say another word, I pulled open the door.

"GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT, FRANCIS," I yelled, slamming the door on Francis's very surprised face.

"Arthur?" Albert called out, walking from the living room towards me. I stormed past him, ripping my jacket off and throwing it carelessly to my left.

"LEAVE ME ALONE," I yelled angrily, kicking my shoes off the way a football player would kick the ball into the goal.

"What's going on?" Albert asked, following me as I stormed upstairs.

"I DUMPED HIM," I yelled, wondering if all the yelling I was doing was going to end up with me losing my voice. I slammed my bedroom door in Albert's face quickly and locked it, noticing Francis already in my bedroom with a travelling bag in his hand, grabbing clothes [folding them at top speed] and throwing them in the bag. I ran to help him, avoiding his eyes.

"W-why?" Albert sounded surprised from the other side of the door. "Did he do something bad to you?" he asked and I hated the insinuation that the question held.

"N-NO!" I stammered out, running towards my closet. "I JUST CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!"

We finished packing in a matter of minutes. Francis stared at me momentarily.

"I'll be waiting in the truck," he murmured, already leaping out of my window. I pulled on the bag, throwing open my door and storming past Albert, who looked horrified at the sight of the bag.

"Arthur!" Albert exclaimed as I ran down the stairs. He followed noisily, his voice sounding panicked. I felt a pang of guilt as I whirled around to face my father.

"What do you want," I said angrily. Albert took a step back when he saw the look on my face.

"What happened?" he asked. "Please, just tell me what happened," he begged.

"I dumped him," I said in a finite tone, trying to turn away. Albert grabbed me by the elbow.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because…"I struggled to think of a reason. Internally I could see the minutes fly by. Francis was probably getting impatient.

"Are you scared what your peers will think of you because you're gay?" Albert asked me quietly.

Blood rushed to my face. "N-no!" I stammered in horror. "Everyone in this damn town seems to be gay! It's just – I like Francis too much!"

"How is that a problem?" Albert asked, perplexed. I panicked, sensing the fact I was losing time faster and faster the longer I talked to Albert.

"Because I don't want to settle down here! I don't want to end up living here for forever with Francis because Francis seems to love it here and I can't take living in this stupid mindless town!" I exclaimed.

Albert let go of me as though I had burnt him. His face crumpled and I wanted to say something reassuring to him – but I couldn't.

I turned to walk towards the door. I heard Albert follow me.

"Arthur please – y-you can't leave now. It's dark out," Albert protested weakly.

"I'll sleep in the truck if I must," I replied.

"At least wait until Victoria gets back!" Albert exclaimed in a last attempted. I froze in the motion of putting on my shoes.

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly.

"She called and said that New York wasn't working for Calvin's acting career so they're coming back to England because Calvin's agent in London says she has a play that she wants him to try out for," Albert replied.

I blinked twice then continued putting my shoes on.

"I have a key," I said, grabbing the doorknob and pulling open the door.

"Please just _consider_ what you're doing—"

"Just let me go, Albert," I said angrily, repeating the very lines my mother had said when she stormed out of the very house I was storming out of so long ago. Albert froze. "This just can't work out. I _hate_ St. Helens!"

I stormed out of the house, not turning back to see my father's horrified face – not wanting to.

"I'll call you when I get home!" I yelled towards him as I climbed into the driver's seat. From the reflection of the rearview mirror, I could see Albert flinch at the word 'home'. I drove off into the night, the realization that I had just hurt my father and abandoned him finally getting to me.

Francis pulled out from under the passenger's seat, staring out of the window urgently for any signs of Yao nearby and turned back to me. He saw the expression on my face and his tense one melted into one of sympathy.

"Pull over, mon chou," he murmured, reaching out to wipe away tears that I didn't even know had been on my face.

"I can drive," I replied through gritted teeth, my eyesight momentarily blurring as more tears pooled into my eyes.

I felt Francis unbuckle my seat belt and pull me out of the seat and into his, smoothly grabbing onto the steering wheel and seating himself at the driver's seat, the truck never swerving an inch.

"I can't believe…Albert," I croaked out, staring out of the window and seeing my very miserable looking face. Albert would never forgive me. _I_ wouldn't ever forgive me.

"It's for the best," Francis murmured. "It was your idea and besides, you can make it up to him later."

A flash of lights flared from behind and my heart jumped to my throat.

"It's Feliciano," Francis said reassuringly. He took hold of my hand with his left, keep his right hand on the steering wheel.

"Did the tracker hear?" I asked, hoping to God that he didn't get Albert while Albert was still standing out on the porch unprotected.

"He managed to hear the last of your performance. He's following us right now," Francis informed me.

"Can we outdrive him?" I asked.

"He's running."

"Can we outrun him?"

"No." Regardless, Francis sped up as fast as he could. The engine whined in protested.

I suddenly felt like my plan wasn't as great as I thought it was before.

I felt the movement of something heavy landing on the top of the truck. I jumped, opening my mouth to yell. Francis let go of my hand and covered my mouth with his now free hand.

"It's just Antonio," he reassured me, letting go of my mouth the moment he knew I wasn't going to scream – not that I ever was going to.

Antonio's face showed up upside down on my window. "This is fun!" he mouthed out to me, returning to his place on top of the truck.

A silence fell between Francis and me as he drove on. "So, I didn't realize you hated St. Helens so much," he said conversationally in an attempt to distract me.

"I don't. I told him the exact same thing my mother said when she left him," I replied in a flat voice.

"He'll forgive you," Francis said in a gentle voice. "It's going to be alright."

I sighed, leaning into the chair. "Why _me_?" I shot at him. "Why does Yao want to hunt _me_ down when there's a drillion other people in this damn town?"

Francis sighed as well, never slowing down. "Perhaps if you didn't smell as good as you do…" he mused. "But it's partially my fault. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did in the field; it just made him sense a challenge. And once he senses a challenge he _must_ win – he's one of those people who strives to be on top; I picked up that much from listening into his thoughts. He absolutely can't wait to beat us," Francis added and I wondered absently if it was some sort of Asian thing to be very competitive, thinking back to how competitive Kiku could get when it comes to marks. Kiku. I wondered if I would ever see him or anyone else ever again. I wondered if Kiku would ever get the courage to ask Ben out or if Peter and Michelle finally kissed. My heart sank, having a morbid feeling I would not be alive to hear about them.

"But alas, if I didn't protect you, he might've killed you on the spot," Francis added, sighing.

"Why? I thought my blood's smell only has an effect on you," I asked, mystified.

"It does – but it's also still very, very delicious smelling," Francis clarified. "Mon dieu, if you smelt the way you do to me to Yao, I would've had to fight him then and there. Now…now I have to kill him. Roderich isn't going to be pleased," he muttered under his breath.

"How do you kill a vampire?" I asked curiously.

"Shred him into pieces and then burn the pieces."

"Will the others fight?"

"I'm sure the young one will but not about Li. Li's mind is shockingly blank. He assesses people, but doesn't have a judgment on them. But from what I've seen, he and Yao aren't as close. I don't think he wants to fight us," Francis answered. He smirked suddenly. "He must not want to kill someone with eyebrows like his, hmm?" he said teasingly.

"Now is not the time to make an eyebrows joke, asshole," I growled at him, ignoring urge to smile at Francis's attempt at lightening the mood.

Francis pulled up near his house; I blinked in surprise. I hadn't even noticed we had arrived. Before Francis could even stop the truck, Antonio had pulled the door open, grabbing me and running inside of the house, Francis and Feliciano from behind quickly following.

Antonio put me down quickly. I dizzily fell into Francis, still surprised.

"He's tracking us," Francis informed the group. I spotted Li sitting nearby Roderich. He nodded once.

I was afraid of that," he replied, a flicker of displeasure appearing on his face.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Feliciano flounce over to Ludwig. He leant in and whispered in the taller man's ears quickly. I watched them fly up the stairs. Lovino moved to Antonio's side, his eyes narrowing at me.

"What will he do?" Roderich asked Li coldly.

"Stop at nothing to kill the human boy," Li replied emotionlessly. "Nothing can stop Yao when he's tracking. He's ruthless – that's why I joined his coven in the first place, three hundred years ago." _His_ coven. It made sense now; Li acting as the leader in the field had been just a ruse, nothing more. "Is it worth all of this?" he asked Roderich curiously.

The sound of Francis's enraged roar filled the room. Li did not flinch; merely blinked in response.

"I see," Li said quietly.

"What is your decision?" Roderich asked him in that same cold voice.

"Will your friends let me stay with them for a while?" Li asked him. "The clan in Greece." Roderich nodded slowly. "Then I will stay there – away from conflict and somewhere warm." He stood up, looking around at all of us. "Do not underestimate Yao. He doesn't seem like it, but he is very cunning and very intelligent and has the strongest senses I've ever seen. He's just as capable in the human world as you all seem to be, so I don't think he will attack you like an animal head on. Good luck," he said, walking past us to the door. I saw him glance at me curiously for a brief second before leaving the house.

"How close is he?" Roderich asked the moment the door closed. I saw Elizaveta walk towards a wall and press something. Instantly the large wall-like window was covered by a strong metal shutter. My jaw dropped.

"Not too far away; he's planning on meeting up with the young one," Francis answered. Yong Soo, my mind supplied suddenly.

"What's the plan?" Elizaveta asked anxiously, joining her husband's side and looking worried.

"Lead him off and Ludwig and Feli will take him to London."

"Then?"

"When Arthur is away from harm, we hunt Yao." I had never heard Francis sound so dangerous.

Roderich sighed. "I suppose we have no choice," he agreed, taking off his glasses momentarily to clean them with the edge of his shirt. He pulled them back on. He nodded at Francis, who turned to Lovino.

"Go upstairs and trade clothes with Arthur," Francis told him.

Lovino stared at him with angry disbelief. "Why should I help that bastard?" he hissed, and I flinched at the anger in his voce. "He didn't do anything except be a menance to this entire damn family."

"Lovi, please," Antonio said quietly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Lovino shrugged it off of him, still glaring at Francis.

Francis pretended as though Lovino hadn't said anything, turning to Roderich.

"It wouldn't work – I'm shorter," Roderich said with a sigh and he was right – his clothes wouldn't fit me.

"I have an idea," Elizaveta voiced suddenly. Francis glanced at her and smiled slightly.

"If you can pull it off," Francis murmured. Elizaveta laughed, her laugh contrasting the tense mood.

"Please, I spent majority of my childhood thinking I was one, I can do it," she said and without any warning, ran to me, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me upstairs. My cheeks burned at the idea of a woman carrying me.

"What are we doing?" I asked her as she shoved me into a room gently. I stumbled inside, unable to see from the darkness.

"We're confusing Yao with my scent. Take your clothes off," she commanded. What she had in mind suddenly became clear to me, and my cheeks turned even redder.

"Y-you aren't going to make me wear your dress…are you?" I stammered out. I saw her silhouette pull off her dress and throw it at me. My face turned an even darker red.

"Clothes," she demanded and I hastily stripped to my boxers, thankful that we were in a dark room. "Hmmmm, should I give you my bra too? Yao might get suspicious if you have a flat chest."

"I-I don't think he'll see me close enough to see that," I protested, really understanding that I truly was gay, horrified at the prospect of being near a woman's…undergarments.

"Good point," she said and I heard the sounds of her pulling on my jeans and shirt. I clumsily pulled the dress over my head, letting the cool satin brush my skin and make it tingle as it fell onto my shoulders. The lights suddenly flickered on and Elizaveta [clad in my clothes] let out a squeal.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"You look so cute!" she exclaimed. There was a sudden flash and to my horror, I realized she had taken a picture with a camera that she seemed to have gotten out of nowhere. My face burned in embarrassment. Elizaveta momentarily put her camera down to rummage in a nearby drawer for a wig [I had a sudden morbid feeling that she made the boys dress up as girls], pulling her hair up into a hat [giving me her pink flower to wear] and carried me back downstairs, meeting Feliciano on the way [who was carrying a small bag]. My cheeks burned when I saw a lecherous glint pass through Francis's eyes.

It seemed to be that while Elizaveta and I were changing, the rest of the family was getting ready. Francis and Antonio were getting ready leave, Antonio wearing a heavy-looking backpack and Francis checking to make sure they had everything. Roderich walked over to us and handed Elizaveta and Feliciano two small silver cell phones.

"Elizaveta and Lovino will be taking your truck, Arthur," Roderich addressed me. I nodded, glancing at Lovino, who was giving Roderich a death glare – which Roderich seemed to ignore.

"Feliciano, Ludwig, you two should take the Mercedes. The dark tint'll help you on sunny days," Roderich instructed. Feliciano and Ludwig nodded.

"We're taking the Jeep," Roderich added, and I realized with some horror that Roderich was intending to go with Antonio and Francis…and that they were the hunting party. "Will they believe our ruse?" Roderich asked Feliciano suddenly.

Feliciano closed his eyes, everyone staring at him intently. He opened his eyes. "He'll be tracking you. The young one will go after the truck. We'll be able to leave after that," he replied confidently. He shot me a shy smile. I smiled at him back, still feeling worried.

"Let's go," Roderich said with a nod. Francis strode over towards me at that moment, grabbing me by the shoulders and kissing me fully. I blinked in surprise, gently kissing him back. And then, it was over.

He stared at me with passionately loving eyes before turning dull. He turned away and joined the other men.

And just like that, they were gone.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes and I furiously blinked them away, not wanting to show weakness in front of them.

A low humming sound filled the air; Elizaveta's phone was vibrating. She checked it quickly and nodded at Lovino. "Now," she said. Lovino stormed off to the front door. Elizaveta brushed her lips on my cheek affectionately before running off to join Lovino.

Ludwig and Feliciano waited by my side for the signal. I saw Feliciano lift the phone to his ear and three seconds later, it vibrated.

"The boy is on Elizaveta's trail. I'll go get the car!" Feliciano said as he hung up. Ludwig looked like he wanted to stop Feliciano, as though he didn't trust Feliciano with getting a car out of a garage, but didn't move. Feliciano flounced away.

We glanced at each other. Ludwig, while close by, was still at a reasonably far distance. He was being careful, not wanting to risk anything.

"You're wrong," he murmured suddenly. I glanced at him.

"What do you mean?" I asked in confusion.

"I can feel your emotions right now and you_ are_ worth it," Ludwig replied, looking away in embarrassment.

"I'm not. Your family's risking too much for me," I mumbled.

"But Francis loves you, and that's all that matters to us," Ludwig replied, glancing at me and giving me a wan smile.

Feliciano flounced through the door, stopping in front of me with a cheerful smile.

"Can I carry you?" he asked me eagerly. I blinked at his enthusiasm, momentarily forgetting the fact that Feliciano looked like he would collapse under my weight.

"You're the first person to ask me for my permission," I informed him as he threw his arms around me and ran out the door with Ludwig following closely behind, the lights in the house still shining brightly.

* * *

**A/N: Guess what guys? I finished writing all of iBee [my little acronym for this story :P]! So I'll be posting the chapters every other day. But ya know, if you all review lots, maybe I'll post the next chapter tomorrow rather than the day after ;D It's all up to you~!**

**Sorry if any of the characters were OOC - for some reason I always think that Arthur is, dunno why. **

**Review?**


	23. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two:

I opened my eyes, looking around in confusion. Where was I? What had just happened? The room was dark. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust. With my limited vision, I saw a plain room set-up, the bed sheets matching with the curtains. A hotel room, my mind guessed.

How did I get into a hotel room?

I began remembering everything that happened the day before, my stomach churning guilty as I pictured Albert's horrifyingly hurt expression. I suddenly remembered being led into a black car with darker tinted windows than ones found on a limousine, sitting next to Feliciano in the back seat. I suppose it was for the best as I couldn't really see Feliciano driving a car safely.

Ludwig had driven fast, though. More than double the speed limit. We tore down the highways, our surroundings a large blur. I had stared at my feet quietly; staring out the window made me feel too sick. I had felt drained at that point – emotionally and physically. I remember Ludwig making a sharp turn, and me falling into Feliciano's side, too exhausted to move away. Feliciano had beamed at me and patted me on the head. For some reason, I couldn't sleep – I just stared straight ahead, images of Francis, Albert, Yao – _everyone_ in my head.

I don't remember when we reached London. I recall seeing some familiar buildings and just _staring_ at them, not feeling any of the relief I had thought I would feel when I returned back to where I grew up.

"Do you know where the airport is?" Ludwig asked me. I blinked, looking up at him. His voice broke the silence that had fallen upon us when we first entered the car [a very surprising silence; Ludwig and I had both thought Feliciano was going to spend it talking non-stop].

"Keep driving straight. We'll pass by it," I croaked, my voice sounding oddly rough from lack of use. He nodded and kept his eyes on the road, both hands on the steering – so unlike Francis. I glanced at Feliciano, who was staring out the window with some amusement on his face. "Are we going to fly somewhere?" I asked curiously.

Feliciano turned away from the window to me. "No, but it's good just in case. I don't really like planes though – do you like planes? Planes scare me because you're in such a small space for such a long and Ludwig says that's called claustrophobia and I don't get where the Claus is from because Santa Claus isn't scary!" Feliciano began to chatter. I had the distinct feeling he had been waiting for a sign to start talking, exploding with comments the moment he was given the 'ok'. I smiled and nodded, listening to his words with one ear, still leaning against him and staring straight ahead of me. I absently wondered what Francis was doing…and if he was alright.

I can't remember much more after that. I think Feliciano's chatter must've lulled me into sleep-mode for I don't remember anything after that.

I sat up in the hotel bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and stifling a yawn. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 3:00, the numbers flashing in my eyes. In the morning or in the evening? I frowned, climbing out of bed and walking to the window. I threw the blinds open, bracing myself for a blast of sun. There was nothing; it was still dark. In the morning then. I stumbled backwards and tripped on my own clothes. I looked down and saw the dress Elizaveta had made me wear the day before. I blushed, looking around for my duffel bag to change into something more comfortable…and appropriate.

Before I could leap at the bag and grab pants to pull on, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I called out, staring at the door.

Feliciano emerged, beaming at me. He paused, frowning slightly when he saw me. "Ve~ I think you should get more sleep," he suggested.

"I'm good," I replied, my voice sounding strangely hoarse.

"But sleeping looks like so much fun!" Feliciano protested, and I was instantly reminded of the fact that Feliciano didn't remember his human life at all. "Oh, Francis said that you eat a lot frequenter than we do, so I made some pasta for you to eat!" he said cheerfully. I stared at him.

"Francis called?" I asked curiously. "You can cook?" I added as an afterthought, wondering why these vampires could cook human food even though they couldn't even eat it.

Feliciano nodded eagerly. "Fratello taught me!" he replied and I supposed he was talking about Lovino.

"And Francis?" I prompted, directing the conversation back to my…lover.

"He didn't call," Feliciano replied reluctantly and my heart tugged. "He told us to feed you before leaving."

I followed him outside to the living room of the hotel suite, where I could smell pasta lingering. There was a plastic plate waiting for me on one of the chairs nearby Ludwig, who was staring blankly at the TV set. Feliciano sat down beside me on the arm of the chair, staring at the TV as well.

I began to eat, not realizing how famished I was. I managed to eat all of my food without feeling queasy in the least. I finished eating quickly, glancing at Feliciano and Ludwig absently [hoping that they didn't think I ate like an animal].

They were both staring dully into the screen, never moving in the slightest. It was like staring at two insanely realistic statues. I blinked, feeling extremely unnerved. It was like they were worried about something – I don't know why the thought came to me, but it felt like they were worriedly waiting for something. My stomach began to churn nervously.

"What's wrong?" I asked Feliciano. Feliciano and Ludwig turned to look at me at the same time [again, unnerving me further].

"What do you mean?" Feliciano asked innocently. I didn't trust him.

"What are we supposed to do now?" I asked.

"Wait for Roderich to call," Feliciano answered airily.

"Should he have called by now?" I asked and I knew I had hit the mark. Feliciano's eyes glanced at his phone lying on a nearby table before looking at me again. "What does that mean – why hasn't he called us yet?" I asked, my stomach churning nervously even more.

"He doesn't have anything to tell us yet," Feliciano said. Feliciano was a terrible liar. I felt panic sink in.

And suddenly, Ludwig was in front of us, going down on one knee to stare me in the eye. He was a lot closer than he normally was.

"There's nothing to worry about," he said calmly. It was too soothing; I knew what he was trying to do. "You're safe here."

"I know that," I snapped at him, not appreciating the calming waves he was sending to me.

Ludwig looked confused. "Then why are you panicking?" he asked.

"What if something goes wrong?" I whispered. "What if someone gets hurt? Antonio…Roderich…Francis – what if Yong Soo gets Elizaveta? What if someone _dies_ – what if-?"

"Arthur," Ludwig said in a finite tone, stopping me midsentence. "You're worrying about useless things. We'll be fine – none of us are in any imminent trouble or ever will be. You're worried enough as it is – don't worry about useless things and add to it! Look at me!" he barked as I tried to look away. I had the sudden vision of him in an army commander suit, yelling at people to stand up straight and march in an orderly fashion. "Our only concern at this point is if we lose you," Ludwig said, breaking into my daydream [of him as a soldier, yelling at me for escaping the cage Feliciano and Lovino put me in...maybe I really _did _need more sleep].

"But _why_—"

"Francis's been alone for almost a century, Arthur. I know everyone thinks he preferred it that way but I can feel his emotions and I know he felt lonely lots of times when the rest of us were with our…lovers," Ludwig said, looking as embarrassed as I normally was whenever I had to say 'lover' out loud. "Do you think we will be able to take looking at him for_ever_ if he loses you?" Ludwig asked. I shook my head, looking down at my feet, feeling calmer and not as guilty.

When Ludwig and Feliciano went back to watching TV, I glanced at the clock. 4:00 AM.

It was going to be a very long day.

Ludwig after a while got tired of watching the news and walked away, pulling a large book out of nowhere and seating himself again, reading it faster than any human could. Feliciano seemed to be sketching things on various pieces of paper. I amused myself by watching TV for as long as I could, flipping through channel after channel after channel and even contemplating looking for the porn channel – just to see what Ludwig would say if I actually managed to find it.

It was around the afternoon time when it hit me that Feliciano was following my every move.

I would walk towards the washroom to take a piss; he would follow and stand outside, claiming that he wanted to take a shower after I came out – but never going into the washroom, following me back into the living room area.

I decided to go take a nap, wanting to escape Feliciano's stalking and Ludwig's calm-waves.

Much to my irritation, Feliciano followed dutifully, sitting on a chair across from the bed.

I was beginning to wonder what exactly Francis had told him to do.

I decided to give in and stop ignoring Feliciano. I leant against the bed, staring at him.

"Feliciano?" I asked.

Feliciano looked up from his sketch, which from my angle looked like a portrait of me sitting in bed. A very accurate portrait of me, I should add. "Sì?" he asked curiously.

"What d'you think they're doing? I asked.

"Lead the tracker as far away as possible, then turn around and attack him by surprise. Elizaveta and fratello are leading the young one as far west as possible and if he decides to go back for your papa, they would go back and protect him."

"Why hasn't anyone called yet?"

"Ve~ I think they're worried either the tracker or the young one will overhear them."

"Feliciano…you're being completely truthful with me, right?"

Feliciano looked surprised. "Of course! I'm always truthful!"

"How do you become a vampire?"

Feliciano blinked at me, surprised by the sudden question. "Ve…Francis didn't want me talking to you about that," he said guiltily.

"Well he isn't here right now, is he?" I prompted. "He's too far away to hear your thoughts so he won't sense it either. If you were my friend, you'd tell me, right?"

Feliciano looked unsure. He sighed finally. "There's venom in our teeth," he answered finally. "But only these two." He opened his mouth and suddenly two of his canine teeth morphed into a fang shape. "They're retractable," he told me when he saw the look of surprise on my face.

"Why?" I asked.

Feliciano shrugged. "I think it's because it's easier for us to blend in," Feliciano mused. "When the venom gets into a human being, it paralyzes them. Fratello says that the process takes a few days and it's the most painful thing you could ever feel. He says that it's so that our prey can't run away. There are some exceptions – like Roderich, but they're really, really rare."

"Is it hard to do?" I asked.

"The moment you finish transforming – after the excruciating pain goes away, you have this uncontrollable desire for blood. The bloodlust and the pain – it's very difficult either way," Feliciano replied. I was slightly surprised at how this bubbly cheerful boy could talk about such serious things. "I think, at least," he added with a pout.

"Why do you think you can't remember?" I asked him.

Feliciano shrugged. "A lot of people can't remember their pasts clearly. 'The strongest memory we take with us from our human lives is the pain we felt when transforming' – that's what Roderich said when I asked him," he answered.

I tried to think of a question I always wanted to ask but never wanted to ask Francis. As I frowned in concentration, Feliciano seemed wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Minutes passed, and I could feel myself drifting off into sleep. I nearly forgot Feliciano was still there.

He gasped, leaping off of his chair, startling me.

"Something's changed!" he exclaimed, running out of the room. I stared at his retreating back and flew out of the bed, following him to Ludwig. We didn't have to go very far; evidently Ludwig had been listening to our conversation and ran in the moment Feliciano gasped.

"What do you see?" he asked Feliciano calmly. Feliciano sank down onto my bed, staring into nowhere.

"Lots of white. There are lots of cupboards…a large table in the middle of the room…there's a sink nearby – everything looks very dusty. Yao's there…I think he's waiting for something."

"Do you know where the room is?"

"No. There's something missing, Ludwig, I don't think he's made his final decision."

"How soon is this happening?"

"Either today, tomorrow or the day after."

"What is he doing?"

"I think there's a small TV somewhere nearby that's he's watching – but it's not in the same room as before; it's darker. No – no wait! He's running one of those weird VCR thingies that no one uses anymore and what Antonio likes to call the dinosaurs of techn-"

"Concentrate, Feliciano."

"Sorry~!" Feliciano cried out, looking defenseless.

"Can you see where he is?" Ludwig seemed to ignore Feliciano, still calmly asking him questions.

"It's too dark for me to tell clearly."

"What's this mean?" I asked finally when the two fell into silence.

"Yao's changed his mind," Ludwig answered finally. "He's decided he's going to do something that will lead him to that room with the TV and then to the other room but…we don't know where those rooms are."

"But we know that he isn't being hunted down…" I said trailing off.

"We should call-" Feliciano paused, running to the phone in the other room, Ludwig and me following after him. The moment Feliciano reached the phone, it rang. Feliciano pulled it off the receiver. "Roderich!" Feliciano exclaimed happily. I let out a sigh of relief. "Yes – oh yes, I just saw him! I don't know but whatever made him get on the plane, it was leading him to the rooms. Yes…oh, ok! Arthur?" Feliciano said, spinning around to face me. He held out the phone to me and I grabbed it from him.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Mon chou, how are you?"

I can't describe the immense amount of relief I felt when I heard his voice.

"Alright I guess. Where are you?" I asked.

"Scotland. We lost him, I'm afraid. I think he knew we were tracking him – he stayed too far away for me to hear him. We think he's boarded a plane to go back to St. Helens and start over trying to track down your scent."

"Feliciano saw that he got away."

"Don't worry, mon amour, he won't be able to find anything to lead him to you. Just stay where you are and wait until we find him again."

"Is Elizaveta still with Albert?"

"Yes. She says that the young one; Yong Soo, was in town. He tried getting into the house after Albert had left but I don't think he managed to find anything. Don't worry about ton papa – Lovino and Elizaveta are watching over him."

"Good," I breathed out.

"Arthur?"

"Yes?"

"I love you very much, regardless of all that I've put you through so far."

"I-I love you too."

"It's a pity that I'm not here to see your face. I know you're probably blushing right now~!"

"I'm not blushing!"

"Ve~ Francis, he is!" Feliciano cut in, pulling the phone from me slightly to yell that part in. My face turned a darker red as I heard Francis laugh from the other line.

"I have to go now, Arthur," Francis said seriously after we spent a few minutes talking about how boring the hotel suite was. I gulped, nodding – though Francis couldn't see me nod. "Stay safe," he warned and with that, he hung up. I put the phone back into its receiver, walking over to Feliciano and Ludwig. Ludwig was watching intently as Feliciano sketched something. I walked over to Feliciano's side and peered over his shoulder.

He was drawing the room he had seen in his vision. I cocked my head to the side, trying to figure out why it seemed so familiar.

"That's a kitchen," I breathed out in shock when I saw Feliciano shade in the sink. Ludwig looked up at me sharply.

"A kitchen?" he asked.

"Yes – but not one in someone's house. One of those professional ones that they hold cooking classes in," I answered.

"Do you know this kitchen?" Ludwig asked me. I shrugged.

"I think all professional kitchens are the same but it looks like the one my mom and I used to go to for cooking lessons. They used to have this stereo that they played while we cooked and it went here," I pointed, "and the big freezer where all the ingredients were stored in was off to this side and next to it there was a sign reminding us to keep our hands clean when touching the food," I pointed in a vague direction off to the right side.

Feliciano and Ludwig stared at me.

"Are you sure this isn't the kitchen that your mother and you used to go to?" Ludwig asked me patiently. I shook my head.

"It just looked familiar. I'm pretty sure most professional kitchens look like this, anyways," I answered.

"Would you have a reason to go back there?" Feliciano asked. I shook my head.

"I haven't been there for _years_ – they begged us to quit after we set fire to this one woman's hair, though I think that might've been my fault," I answered. My mother had always been a rather decent chef.

"So there isn't any way of it being connected to you?" he prompted.

"No way – actually, I think they might've closed it down a few years back, I'm not too sure."

"Where was this kitchen?" Ludwig asked. I shrugged.

"Not too far away from the apartment my mother and I lived in."

"So…here in London?"

"...yes," I whispered, realizing the consequences of that. If Feliciano had seen Yao in the kitchen that my mother and I used to go to…that meant that Yao was in London – perhaps even near by. "Is that phone safe?" I asked, pointing to the phone lying nearby.

"It'll just trace back to St. Helens," Ludwig answered.

"I need to call my mother."

"Isn't she in America?"

"She is but she's coming home and I don't want her to come home and…" I broke off, biting my lip anxiously. "I'll leave a message at the place she's staying at if she's not there; I know she's supposed to check her messages regularly," I added.

"Be careful that you don't let slip where you are," Ludwig answered and I took that as the ok to call my mother.

_This is Victoria and Calvin here! If you're listening to this, that must mean we're not at home right now. Please leave a message at the tone~!_

"Mother," I began after the beep, "it's me, Arthur. I need you to do something really important for me, ok? As soon as you get this message, please call me." Feliciano had already written down a number for me to recite into the phone. "Please don't go anywhere until you call this number, ok? Oh, and don't worry – I'm alright. I just really need to talk to you. It's a matter of life or death. I love you, Mum. Bye." I hung up and closed my eyes, praying to God that she would hear the message in time.

I didn't know what to do after that. Ludwig went back to reading his book and Feliciano concentrated on completing his drawing, now shading in intricate details that made the simple sketch look more like a black and white photograph.

As for me, I lay down on the long couch and stared up at the ceiling, my mind swirling around with thoughts. A part of me wished I had had enough time at home to pack some books so I had something to do. I picked out shapes and images from the ceiling, hoping my mother would hear the message soon and call.

I suppose I must've fallen asleep on the couch, for I felt a pair of cold hands carry me into the room and set me down on the bed. I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

* * *

**A/N: Not gonna lie, I found this chapter kind of boring, but semi-important. Le sighe. The next update will be tomorrow...hopefully. I have an audition for my school's musical and if it goes well, you'll get that update. If not...well, you'll hear about my audition on Thursday with lots of tears and sad faces. **

**Review~?**


	24. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three:

When I woke up, I had the oddest feeling that I had waken up far too early again. I closed my eyes and attempted to fall asleep again, failing miserably. I lay there on the semi-rock hard bed and listened to Feliciano's and Ludwig's voices from the next room. I couldn't make out the words, but I knew they were discussing something seriously. Again, it surprised me that Feliciano could hold a serious conversation with someone.

When I finally got bored of staring up at the ceiling, I stumbled into the washroom, brushing my teeth quickly and splashing cold water onto my face. I walked into the living room only to see Ludwig and Feliciano huddled over a piece of paper, Feliciano drawing with an intense look on his face.

"Did he see something else?" I asked, standing beside Ludwig.

Ludwig nodded curtly. "Something brought Yao back to the room with the TV, but it's lighter now," he answered quietly.

I watched Feliciano draw three black couches around the TV set in a U-pattern, a little oval-shaped wooden coffee table in the middle. The TV was in front of a large window, curtains drawn over it. The dining room was nearby, just a table and five black chairs surrounding it.

"The balcony goes over there," I murmured, pressing lightly on the paper.

Feliciano looked up at me.

"That's my mother's house," I informed them, horror slowly filling me. Before I could say anymore, Feliciano was the phone, dialing a number. In an uncharacteristic move, Ludwig put his hand on my shoulder reassuringly, sending me calming waves to stop me from panicking. I welcomed the feeling, taking in deep breaths to help myself calm down.

"Arthur – Francis is coming to get you. He and Antonio and Roderich are going to hide you somewhere until its safe," Feliciano informed me.

"Francis is coming?" I asked, feeling hope bubble inside of me.

"He's catching the first flight from wherever he is right now – London's too overly populated for him to run all the way here; he wouldn't want to get caught," Feliciano added to my questioning glance.

"B-but my mother! And Calvin – what if Yao gets to them?" I asked, feeling panic surfacing again.

"We won't let anything happen to them," Ludwig reassured me.

"But what if Yao's not even _after_ me – you can't guard everyone I know?" Oh God, what if he went for Kiku or Peter? Or even Michelle – could Yao see pixies? What if he got to Taylor? Actually wait, I didn't care about Taylor. But what about the others? I could feel myself going hysterical with worry.

"Ve~ Ludwig," Feliciano said quietly and suddenly I felt extremely tired. I knew what they were trying to do and felt a flash of anger.

"I _don't_ want to go to sleep," I growled at Ludwig, shaking his grip off of my shoulder. I stormed off into my room and slammed the door shut, sinking down to the ground and burying my face into my hands in horror. I just couldn't take it anymore, this constant fear. I hoped that seeing Francis again would bring some happiness or else I would end up turning into a blubbering mess on the ground, sucking my thumb and rocking back and forth while staring into space.

I heard the phone ring. Could it be my mother? I shot up to my feet and threw open the door, a part of me feeling guilty at my behaviour earlier, but knowing that Ludwig and Feliciano probably didn't hold it against me.

When I walked in, Feliciano was on the phone. I looked around in surprise. Ludwig wasn't even in the room.

"They're just boarding their plane right now!" Feliciano told me enthusiastically when he hung up, trying to bring up my mood. "Only a few more hours until you get to see Francis again!"

"Where's Ludwig?" I asked, cheering up ever so slightly.

"He went to check out – we're going to stay closer to your mother's house to keep an eye on her!" Feliciano answered, and I felt worry sink in some more.

The phone rang again before I could ask any more questions. Feliciano got to it first.

"Hello? Oh no hang on – he's right here!" Feliciano said. "It's your mother!" he told me excitedly. I grabbed the phone away from him.

"Mum?" I asked breathlessly.

"Arthur? Arthur?" My mother sounded panicked…terrified. I sighed. I knew my mom was probably worrying over the message I had left her.

"It's ok, mum," I said, walking away from Feliciano. "Everything is going to be alright, ok? Just give me a few minutes to explain. Everything's alright, I promise," I lied.

I waited for her response.

Nothing.

"Mum?"

"Do not say anything until I tell you to," a man's voice said with a slight Chinese accent. My heart sank. "I don't want to hurt your mother so listen to what I say and she'll be alright aru," he said. I didn't say anything, keeping my back to Feliciano so that he couldn't see my face. "Repeat after me and make sure you sound normal aru. 'No, mum, stay where you are.'"

"N-no, mum, stay where you are," I stammered. I heard Yao sigh from the other side.

"You aren't a very good actor aru," he commented and I felt my face heat up in embarrassment, despite the moment. "I can tell that your face is probably going to give everything away so I want you to walk into the next room. Say 'Mum, please listen to me' as you walk aru."

"M-mum, please listen to me," I pleaded, walking away from the living room. I could feel Feliciano's eyes on me but didn't turn back – fearing that my face would indeed give everything away.

"Are you alone now? Just answer yes or no aru."

"Yes."

"Say 'Mum, trust me.'"

"Mum, trust me."

"Perhaps you're not as bad at acting as I had initially thought aru. It's a good thing for me that your mother arrived earlier than expected, isn't it?"

I waited for him to continue.

"Now, I want you to listen very carefully aru. I need you to get away from your friends. Do you think you can do that aru? Yes or no."

"No." My voice was angry, trying to mask any fear I felt.

"That is unacceptable aru. What if your mother's life depended on it? Yes or no."

I remembered we were going to the airport. The one we were going to was particularly loud and crowded; it would be easy to lose me.

"Yes."

"Good aru. You better be alone or else your mother will have to face the consequences. Next I want you to go to your mother's house. There will be a number there. Call it and I will tell you the next place to go from there. Yes or no." It was like a game and I felt like a measly little pawn. I had a feeling I knew where Yao wanted me to go, but agreed to do exactly what he said.

"Yes."

"Before noon aru. I am a busy man."

"Where's Calvin?" I asked.

"Too many questions aru. Wait until I tell you to speak," he scolded.

I waited.

"Don't make your friends suspicious when you go back to them. Tell them your mother called and that you talked her out of going home for now aru. Now repeat: 'Thank you, mum.' Say it now."

"Thank you, mum."

"'I love you, mum. I'll see you soon.'"

"I love you, mum," I swallowed thickly. "I'll see you soon."

"I will see you tomorrow before noon aru." And with that, he was gone.

I felt paralyzed, too horrified to move. I had no other choice but to listen to Yao and die. I hoped that killing me would be enough for him and that he wouldn't do anything to my mother. Or to Francis. My heart ached when I thought of how he would take my death.

I tried to stifle the grief that was starting to arise in me. Tried to hide it before Ludwig could return. I couldn't risk having Ludwig sense my agony – it would help them get suspicious and before I even started I would've already disobeyed Yao's orders. The thought of doing that terrified me.

When I could breathe properly, I went back to the living room and handed Feliciano the phone. He stared at me with worry, looking at the expression on my face, but I spoke before he could. I didn't want to have to improvise – I wasn't good at that.

"My mum was worried about the message I left for her and she wanted to come back home as fast as she could. I told her to stay put," I told Feliciano.

"That's good," Feliciano agreed. Before I could do anything else, he threw his arms around me. "It'll be ok, Arthur!" he exclaimed and it hit me that tears were rolling down my face. "Your mamma will be alright – we'll make sure of it!"

"Thank you, Feliciano," I said in an exhausted voice, breaking out of Feliciano's cold hug. My eyes fell on a page of hotel stationary and I walked over to it, picking it up. I saw that there was an envelope there too. An idea was beginning to form in my mind.

"Arthur?" Feliciano called out hesitantly. I spun around to face him.

"Would it be alright if I wrote a letter for my mum? Would you leave it at the house for her?" I asked.

Feliciano nodded, looking concerned. I think he could see me about to break apart, about to lose my grip. I grabbed the envelope and retreated to my room, resting beside the little bedside table to write.

_Francis_, I wrote. I fought to keep my hand steady.

_I've always been told that I'm more expressive in my writing than I am in anything else, which is why I'm writing this rather than telling you this in person or getting Feliciano or Ludwig to tell you. _

_I love you. I know I don't show it all the time but I really do and you really do mean the world to me. _

_I'm so sorry. _

_You couldn't have stopped it. He has my mother and I have to save her. She doesn't deserve being pulled into this, it's all my fault. _

_It's not your fault. Don't you ever dare think it is. _

_I know you're going to be furious when you see this and maybe a little heartbroken. Please don't go after Yao – I don't want him to hurt someone else because of me. Especially not you. Do it for me, if you need a reason. _

_I love you so much. _

_I'm so, so sorry. _

_-Arthur_

I folded the letter into three parts and slid it into the envelope, sealing it tightly.

And like that, I sealed away my last goodbyes.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who wished me luck on my audition~! I think I did pretty well, even though I kinda started singing in my sassy black man voice at one point. I've been in the musical for two years now, here's to hoping I'm in it for a third year! :D **

**This chapter was sad ._. Review to make me feel betters?**


	25. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four:

The time it took to ultimately break my heart into little pieces was shockingly short. I stared at the closed letter for an infinite amount of time, my mind not really thinking anything, my body not really feeling anything. I felt numb.

I picked up the letter and walked back to the living room, where Feliciano was. I didn't want to be near him, lest he picked up on how I was feeling and got suspicious. I was thankful that Ludwig hadn't arrived yet.

I gaped at Feliciano when I finally laid eyes on him.

He was bent over the desk, gripping the edge with both his hands, his eyes looking maniac and terrified.

"Feliciano!" I exclaimed, running to him. He didn't seem to hear me, still staring out into space with those terrified wide eyes.

There was a gasp from the door. Before I could even turn, Ludwig was at Feliciano's side, prying his hands off of the desk and pulling the smaller man to him.

"What is it?" he asked soothingly, rubbing Feliciano's back. Feliciano buried his face into Ludwig's chest.

"Arthur," came the muffled reply.

"I'm right here," I said gently, wondering what on earth Feliciano had seen, and praying that it wasn't my mother dying.

Feliciano turned around to face me, his eyes wide and blank. I stared into them and I suddenly realized that Feliciano hadn't been talking to me; he had been answering Ludwig's question. I suddenly knew what Feliciano had seen.

I felt Ludwig send out a peaceful wave, trying to calm the both of us down. I welcomed the feeling, breathing in slowly to keep my emotions intact.

Feliciano beamed at me, keeping his emotions controlled as well. "It was just the same room as before," he breathed out. "Are you hungry – I can make pasta!"

"No, I'm good. I'll eat at the airport," I replied, excusing myself to take a shower. I could tell Feliciano was waiting for me to get out of the room so he could tell Ludwig what he actually saw.

I let the warm water from the shower hit my face, imagining it washing away my sorrows. Ludwig's calming aura and the water cleared my mind and helped me plan my escape.

I dried my hair quickly as I pulled on fresh clothes, locating an old sock where I had stuffed all the money I had and dumping the money onto the bed. I took all the bills and put them in my wallet, stuffing it into my back pocket. I didn't need the pocket change.

We left to the airport immediately afterwards, much to my relief. I sat in the back alone this time, Feliciano lightly talking non-stop at Ludwig for the entire drive. I had a feeling he was doing this to seem normal, but I saw right through what he was doing.

I waited until Feliciano was done talking to ask him a question.

"Feliciano?" I asked.

"Yeah?" Feliciano asked, turning to face me.

"How does it work – the things that you see?" I asked him as casually as I could, staring out the window absently, trying to look bored. "F-Francis said that it wasn't definite and that it could change." I guessed that the difficulty I had saying Francis's name alerted Ludwig. I felt another wave of calm hit me. I welcomed it, needing anything to distract me from my upcoming death.

"Some things are more certain – like the weather! I can tell what the weather will be but people are a lot harder to tell. They change their minds really easily! If they change their minds, I can't see what happens until they make a concrete decision," Feliciano informed me. I nodded absently, still staring out the window. I tried to make it seem like I was considering backing out on Yao's plan and that I was actually going to go with Francis. I wanted to keep Feliciano confused for as long as I could – no matter how guilty it made me.

Luck was finally on my side. As we entered the airport, we found that Francis's plane would be arriving in the main terminal. The terminal was large, and definitely would be easy for me to lose them in.

We sat down, waiting for Francis to appear. I waited for my opportunity, looking around trying not to think. I could tell Feliciano and Ludwig were keeping an eye on me, pretending to people-watch so I wouldn't get suspicious.

I pulled out the envelope out of my pocket and handed it to Feliciano, who looked confused.

"My letter," I reminded him and he nodded, tucking it into his jacket for later. I hoped Francis would read it in time.

I waited until there was barely any time for Francis to appear. When there was only 30 minutes left until his plane would arrive, the numbers on the board flashed. There was only 10 minutes left. I gulped.

"I think I'm getting hungry now. I should go get something," I said, standing up.

"I'll come with you!" Feliciano said cheerfully, standing up too.

"I think Ludwig should come instead," I said quickly. "I don't feel too good." Feliciano and Ludwig exchanged a look. I didn't even need to act; they could see the wild look in my eyes. Feliciano nodded and sat back down, Ludwig standing up with me.

We walked away from Feliciano, me leading Ludwig as far away from Feliciano's eyes as possible. That's when I saw it; a men's washroom.

"I need to go to the washroom," I informed Ludwig and he nodded. He looked a little embarrassed; I had a feeling he didn't really feel comfortable about going into a washroom and standing there doing nothing. I prayed on that; it would make my escape that much easier.

"I'll wait outside," he said, answering my prayers. I nodded and tried to keep myself looking normal as I walked into the washroom.

What Ludwig didn't know was that there are two doors to the washrooms in the airport we were in. I bolted to the second door, knowing fully well Ludwig wouldn't be able to see me run away.

I pushed past surprised looking people, squeezing into an elevator just before it closed. I waited impatiently for it to open before dashing out of it and out of the airport.

I found a shuttle bus just about to leave. I climbed on, giving the bus driver money. I knew he was confused as to why I was there without any baggage, but I didn't have time to answer. I sat down far away from anyone else and waited, my foot tapping impatiently. I pictured Francis looking around in confusion, any trace of my scent gone. I felt terribly guilty, but I couldn't do anything about it.

Luck continued to help me out. As I bolted out of the shuttle at the last stop, I spotted a man getting out of a cab. I ran to it and climbed in, ignoring his surprised look.

"I need to get to this place as soon as possible," I breathed out and recited my mother's addressed to the cabbie.

"That's pretty far from here," he said and I shoved at him a bunch of bills.

"This enough?" I asked. He nodded and started driving. I leant back in my seat, trying to control my breathing. It was odd; despite the fact that I was running to my demise, I felt strangely happy…triumphant that I had managed to escape Ludwig and Feliciano.

"What was the number again?" the cabbie asked.

"Er 72," I said shakily. The cabbie gave me a worried look and kept driving. My heart sped up as I saw familiar buildings and signs. We were getting closer.

"Here you are," he said anxiously. I flew out of the car without a backwards glance.

"Thank you!" I called out from over my shoulder as I ran into the apartment building. Thankfully, I didn't see anyone who I recognized back when I still lived there. Without waiting for the elevator, I flew up the stairs, marveling at how much exercise I was getting. My father would've been proud. Pity I was going to die so very soon.

I fished out my keys, my hands shaking as I unlocked the door. It was so familiar, returning to this house I used to live in what seemed like a million years ago.

I ran towards the phone, stumbling slightly in the dark. I reached over to my side and found the light switch easily, shedding light to the room. I saw a sticky note attached to the wired phone nearby the kitchen. I lifted it up, staring at the numbers for a few seconds. I grabbed the phone with my other hand and wedged it between my shoulder and ear, my hand shaking as I dialed the number.

It only rang once between I heard his voice again. "Hello, Arthur," Yao said, sounding surprised. "You are a lot earlier than I expected maybe you aren't as incompetent as I originally thought."

"Is my mum alright?" I demanded, ignoring the insult.

"She's fine…for now. Unless you're with someone else…?"

"No, I'm alone."

"Excellent. Now, do you remember that old community centre with the separate building? The one that contains a large kitchen?"

"Yes, I know how to get there."

"Perfect. I'll see you then." He hung up.

I placed the receiver back into its place, breathing in deeply. I couldn't believe that _he_ had trespassed something I thought was a sanctuary of security. I rubbed the bridge of my nose in exhaustion before remembering that I had to hurry. He was waiting.

As I ran out of the apartment, I noted that it was extremely sunny outside – something that wouldn't have been normal in St. Helens. The sun's rays bounced off the white concrete and into my eyes, blinding me as I staggered forwards. I was dripping with sweat now and more than ever I wished that I had worked out more. I pictured my mother and forced myself to keep going, a stitch growing in my chest. My throat burned as I gasped for air, finally stopping in front of the community centre, 3 blocks away from where I had originally started.

I remembered that the kitchen the cooking classes were held was in a separate building, the only Yao had mentioned over the phone. I walked towards it, my legs feeling oddly jelly like and I fought to catch my breath. I lay my hand on the cold handle, trying to collect myself. I couldn't look disheveled right before I died. It wasn't proper. I controlled my breathing and wiped the sweat off my face. I opened the door [which was unlocked] and stepped in like a man.

The entire area was dark and cool. I was surprised that in this empty building, the air conditioner was on.

I suddenly felt so terrified, I couldn't even move. I couldn't go on…I just couldn't. I could feel my heart thumping through my chest and I just wanted to turn back and run away to Francis.

"Arthur? Arthur?" my mother's hysterical voice called out from the darkness. I ran forwards towards the sound of her voice…promptly running into a door.

I threw open the door, running in.

"Mum!" I exclaimed, looking around. The room was dark, so I couldn't see too well. I stumbled forwards, trying to see if I could find her.

And then I heard her laugh. I whirled around to face the sound.

She was on the TV screen, holding a little me near the water. I recognized the scene; my grandfather had taken this when we went to visit him in Ireland. I had been standing too close to the water and looked like I was going to fall into the deeper end, hence why my mother had been calling my name.

I had been tricked.

I watched the screen go blue.

It was then when I realized that someone was staring at me from behind. I turned around slowly to see Yao casually leaning against the wall, looking directly at me. For the scariest person I have ever met, Yao was surprisingly normal-looking, feminine-looking even. If I didn't know what he was capable of, I would've wondered why I was so scared of him. He didn't look frightening in the least.

And then he smirked.

"You must be relieved that your mother isn't in any danger aru," he remarked, walking past me to turn the TV off. I kept facing him, a glare on my face.

"I am, actually," I replied, my eyes narrowing.

"You don't sound angry enough aru," he added, and I wondered absently why he kept ending his sentences with that strange little word. What the hell did 'aru' even mean?

"I'm not mad," I told him and he looked surprised.

"You actually sound like you mean it," he said in amusement. "Maybe that is why your coven likes you so much aru."

"Maybe," I replied.

He stood only a meter or so away from me, watching my expression. His almond eyes were a dark, dark black with hints of red in them. I wondered if it was because he was a carnivore rather than vegetarian like Payes.

"This is usually the time you use to tell me that your boyfriend will avenge your death and that I will pay for this aru," Yao told me.

"I'm not a girl," I growled at him. "And I told him not too."

"What did he say to that?"

"I don't know. I wrote him a letter."

"How very girly of you aru."

"At least I don't look like one," I growled, and a part of me wondered why I was egging on my killer like this. I felt strangely at ease.

Yao shook off the insult like it was nothing. "Do you think your boyfriend will honor your letter aru?" he asked me.

"He better."

Yao sighed. "A pity. I would've preferred battling someone to my own strength," he said, and I agreed. Just because he finally had me didn't me he automatically won. After all, it was all too easy for him to kill a pathetic human like me. It would've been more rewarding if he got Francis in the process. "But at least you'll let me send him my own letter too?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked warily, going the gory route and thinking that Yao was going to send Francis my decapitated head or something.

He motioned to the left of him and I saw a small video camera perched upon a tripod, its flashing red light indicating that it was already recording. Yao strolled over to it and picked it up.

"Say hello to your boyfriend, Arthur," he said with a smirk. "It's a good thing he didn't come here, actually. It would've ruined the fun. Only one of my victims has ever escaped me and that was very long ago. He was rather young for a vampire, but extremely old. He fell in love with one of the inmates at a nearby asylum, a boy who was forced to wear the girls' uniform because they didn't have one in his size aru. They put him in for his unusual visions and the vampire was very infatuated with him – even though he didn't know his love's true gender. He snuck his dress-wearing lover away from his little cage and the moment they were free, he changed him aru. The boy didn't even seem to notice the pain; he had been locked away for so long. The vampire had created a new strong vampire and there was no reason for me to attack him. So I killed the other as revenge aru," Yao concluded.

"Feliciano," I breathed out. Yao nodded.

"Indeed. I was very surprised to see him with the rest of his coven aru. What a pity too, he smelt very good – better than you do actually," Yao remarked, walking towards me and sniffing at me. I backed away, hitting the wall. He smirked, setting the camera back on its tripod momentarily. "We should probably get started aru. I want to finish this movie so I can send it to your boyfriend."

I felt nauseous, inching away from him as fast as I could, finally panicking. I was going to die. I waited a few seconds and then bolted, trying to get to the door.

Before I could even register it, I was flying through the air, hitting the cupboards. I fell onto the counter, rolling off into the ground. I was winded, unable to breathe.

I tried crawling away from Yao, feeling bruised and battered all over. Yao was right behind me in an instant, stepping down on my leg with ease. I felt it break and let out a yell of agony. The pain temporarily blinded me. I reached behind me to grab at my leg.

Yao smirked at me. "Still don't want your boyfriend to save you aru?" he asked, video camera in hand. I shook my head.

"Don't come, Francis!" I croaked, letting out a howl as Yao nudged my broken leg. He reached over with his free hand and pulled out a knife from a nearby drawer. A large butcher knife. A very mundane way to die, but a painful one. I backed away as fast as I could, my breath coming in short gasps as my broken leg moved.

Suddenly something was sliced into my stomach, blood pouring out of it. I screamed, covering it with my arm.

The look on Yao's face was terrifying. He swooped down and grabbed me by the collar, sending me flying through the air. I hit the large metal door that stored all the unused food. The collision had me seeing stars as I sank towards the ground. I was bleeding all over now, my blood spread across the floor.

I knew Yao wouldn't be able to resist my blood any longer, he was so hungry. Please, don't let it hurt, I prayed silently.

I could feel myself drifting away, slowly losing my breath.

A faintly heard a growl from Yao as he advanced towards me hungrily. I watched his blurry figure come closer. Unable to take it, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for his final attack.

I felt myself fade away.

And then I died.

* * *

**A/N: There are two more chapters and an epilogue left to go.**

**Happy Thanksgiving too all you Americans! We already had our Thanksgiving up here in Canadialand but hope you guys stuff yourselves with lots of Turkey! :D**


	26. Chapter 25

Chapter Twenty-Five:

The angels were calling me. It was strange, heaven. I thought it would be a lot brighter than this.

"No please Arthur, no!" the angel cried out. It amused me that the angel already knew my name. Had God told him to greet me at the pearly gates?

I struggled to open my eyes, not succeeding. Why couldn't I move? Was I paralyzed? I felt someone lift me up gently and felt a stabbing pain in my leg. No, I couldn't be paralyzed if I could feel my leg hurt.

But if I was dead, why did I still feel pain? Didn't death take away all life's pains?

"Arthur please don't go!" the angel sobbed. How odd, the angel had a French accent. Were all angels French? I don't remember reading _that_ in the bible.

I felt bad. Why was the angel crying for me? I tried to open my mouth to tell him to stop. I couldn't breathe.

"Roderich please, save him!" the angel cried out. Roderich? Was he in heaven too?

I felt a small pressure on my leg and the stabbing pain came back, only worse. Along with it came other pains, worser pains. They forced my eyes open and I gasped out, able to breathe again.

"Arthur!" the angel cried out.

"He's lost a lot of blood," another voice rang out. Roderich? "Be careful of his leg – it's broken."

The angel let out an angry string of swear words, presumably French. I wondered if God approved of his vocabulary. There was a sharp pain at my side.

"And some ribs too, if I'm not mistaken," Roderich added.

But slowly, those pains were starting to go away. Oh good, I thought in relief, I must be properly dead now.

Suddenly, an even stronger pain appeared at my hand, scalding me.

Someone had set my hand on fire.

"Mon cher, it's going to be alright," the angel reassured me. No, not an angel. Francis. Francis was talking to me, and I wasn't dead. That made more sense.

"Francis," I whispered to him.

"No, shh, you'll hurt yourself," Francis told me gently.

"Francis," I repeated.

"I'm right here," he reassured me.

"It hurts," I whimpered. The fire was starting to spread from the back of my hand to my fingers.

"Give me my bag," I heard Roderich say. "Feliciano, hold your breath – it'll be easier that way," he instructed.

"Feliciano?" I asked.

"He's right here. He knew where to find you."

"My hand hurts," I told Roderich, looking at him but not seeing him. Why couldn't I see?

"We know, we'll give you something to make it stop," Francis said gently.

"No, my hand hurts!" I protested.

"I know I just told you-"

"IT'S ON FIRE!" I screamed, my vision finally clearing and seeing Francis's silhouette. "MY HAND IS ON FUCKING FIRE, FRANCIS. FUCKING DO SOMETHING."

"Arthur?" Francis sounded terrified.

"STOP THE FUCKING FIRE," I howled, not able to take it.

"Mon dieu…Roderich – his hand!"

"He bit him." Roderich sounded disgusted, horrified.

Francis gasped in horror.

"Francis, this is it!" Feliciano exclaimed.

"Non!" Francis yelled.

"There may be a chance to save him," Roderich said quietly.

"Quoi? What is it?" Francis begged.

"Suck the venom out of the wound – it's fairly clean," Roderich told him. I could feel him poking and prodding at my head, though why, I wasn't able to figure out.

"Will that work?" Feliciano asked.

"I don't know…but we have to try something," Roderich answered. "But we have to hurry before it spreads."

"I don't know if I can do it," Francis said quietly.

"It's your decision. Save him, or let him become one of us."

The fire intensified, making my body writhe in pain. My legs jerked out and I felt like I was going through a seizure.

"PLEASE, HELP," I screamed.

"Feliciano, get something to brace his leg down," Roderich ordered, working on clearing up the wounds in my head. "Francis, you have to do this now or it'll be too late."

I looked up at Francis, who was staring down at me with determination. I felt cold hands grab my burning hand, cooling the fire down only a bit.

I felt his cool lips against my skin, and the pain intensified. I yelled swear words, trashing against the arms that were holding me down [were they Feliciano's or Roderich's?].

Then slowly, the pain started to fade away. It started to dull down, the fire shrinking.

As the pain faded, so did I. I could feel myself falling into unconsciousness. I fought to stay awake.

"Francis," I whispered, too quiet for even me to hear.

The others heard.

"Don't worry, Arthur, he's right here."

"Tell him to stay here with me…"

"I will," Francis replied, sounding oddly triumphant.

I felt myself easing into a comfortable sleepiness, the pains in my body now just a dull occasional pang.

"Did you do it?" Roderich asked.

"I got all of it," Francis replied.

"The fire's all gone," I added sleepily. I heard Francis laugh quietly and press his cold lips to my forehead.

"Where is your mother?" Roderich asked me, just as I was about to go to sleep.

"Still in America." My words were coming out slurred from exhaustion. "He tricked me. He played a video from when I was a little kid." I tried to open my eyes again and I remembered what he had told me about Feliciano. "Feli…" I murmured, too tired to say his full name, "the video, watch it. He knew you when you were human. He knew where you came from." I didn't feel like moving my mouth anymore. "Why do I smell gasoline?" I mumbled incoherently as the stench hit my nose.

"We should move him now," Roderich said.

"No, I want to sleep," I protested, barely moving my lips.

"Sleep in my arms, mon chou, I'll carry you," Francis told me.

I felt his cold arms envelope around me, lifting me into the air. I pressed against him, finally letting my body relax.

I felt his cold lips press against mine gently.

I fell fast asleep in his arms.

* * *

**A/N: I would say more here but I'm getting ready to go to my school's semi formal! ^^ **

**Review?**


	27. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six:

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Where was I? Last time I checked, I had been in Francis's arms.

Beep

Beep

Beep

I opened my eyes warily. "Mmph?" I groaned, trying to sit up.

"Non, you have to keep lying down." A cold hand pressed against my chest, pushing me down back into a lying position.

"Francis?"

"Oui, c'est moi."

"Am I in a hospital?" I asked him, staring at the various tubes connected to my arms and my left leg in a cast.

"Oui," Francis answered.

"What happened to Yao?" I asked.

"Antonio and Ludwig took care of him," Francis said darkly.

"I didn't see Antonio or Ludwig there," I pointed out, shuddering [and wincing in pain after the shudder] at the look on Francis's face.

"They had to leave the room…there was too much blood."

"But you and Roderich and Feliciano stayed."

"We love you very much, Arthur."

I gulped. "I'm sorry," I said to Francis, remembering the letter I had indirectly sent him. He must've read it. Francis smiled gently at me.

"Don't be," he said, leaning in to kiss my forehead.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

My face burned as the heart monitor increased. Francis laughed.

"Albert!" I exclaimed suddenly as Francis pulled back. "We need to tell Albert – and my mother!" I exclaimed.

"It's already been taken care of," Francis said soothingly. "Your mother is actually here right now. She's gone to get something to eat."

I tried to sit up again. "What did you tell her?" I asked, panicking.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"You really should stop worrying so much," Francis said with a frown, pushing me back into a lying position. I winced; moving was hurting my ribs. "And we told her that I came to the hotel you were staying at to convince you to come back home because your father was so heartbroken and you tried to run away from me and while doing so you tripped and fell down three flights of stairs and through a window."

I blinked. "And she bought that?" I asked.

Francis nodded. "That with the evidence, it wasn't too hard for her to believe me," he replied.

"What evidence?"

"Ah…Feliciano had a little too much fun with that part," Francis said with a light laugh. I laughed too, before wincing. Laughter seemed to make my chest hurt. Francis stopped laughing and looked at me with concern.

"How bad am I?" I asked him.

"A broken leg, a few broken ribs, some cracks in your skull, a large gash in your abdominal area, lots of bruises and you lost lots of blood. They had to give you transfusions – it made your blood smell disgusting," Francis told me.

"Well that's good, isn't it? Easier to resist, right?" I asked.

"But I like the way you smell!" Francis protested.

"How did you manage it?" I asked him after a brief pause. Francis smiled at me gently.

"I loved you enough to force myself to let go," he murmured, taking the hand that had been bitten and kissed it lightly.

"Do I taste good?" I asked, immediately regretting the way I had said that when I saw the lecherous look on Francis's face.

"I haven't tasted you like that to know for sure," he purred at me. "But yes, yes you were. A lot better than I imagined, actually."

"Lovely," I said, rolling my eyes. He laughed and sat down on the bed beside me, amusing himself by kissing my knuckles and laughing as my heart rate went up.

Francis froze suddenly, looking up at me. "I think I hear your mother coming," he said, standing up.

"Don't go!" I exclaimed. I blushed. "I mean, you can stay…if you want," I muttered.

Francis grinned, swooping down and kissing me on the lips.

"I'll be right here," he promised, walking to a nearby chair, "taking a nap." He closed his eyes and sat very still.

"Remember to breathe," I said sarcastically. He took in a dramatic breath and opened an eye, smiling cheekily.

The door opened just a crack and Francis closed his eyes again. My mother peeked through. Our eyes met.

"Mum!" I exclaimed, relieved to see my mother again after so long.

"Oh Arthur!" she gasped, throwing the door open and rushing to my side. She cast a quick glance at Francis and frowned. "Your boyfriend never leaves, does he?" she asked.

"B-boyfriend!" I stammered, my face going red. Did Albert tell my mother Francis and I were dating? "Why do you think we're dating?"

"Oh!" she gasped, turning as red as I was. "I always thought that you were…I'm so sorry, sweetie!"

"You always thought I was gay?" I asked her. She looked sheepish.

"It was the sweater vests, honey," she said with embarrassment. Again with the sweater vests! Do they _really_ make me look gay?

"You're lucky that I _am_ gay and that _is_ my boyfriend or else I would've been madder," I grumbled, unable to keep the smile off my face. Victoria had always been my best friend while growing up, I couldn't get mad at her.

Victoria let out a squeal. "He's your boyfriend?" she asked eagerly, sounding horrifyingly like Elizaveta. "That's adorable! You two would make the cutest couple!" she gushed.

I turned an even darker red as Francis gave me a quick smirk before closing his eyes again and pretending to sleep. "How's Calvin?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "Where is he anyways?"

"Ooh, I have the best news about him!" she said eagerly, jumping up and clapping her hands together like a teenager. I smiled – Victoria always did act a lot younger than she really was. It was one of the reasons why I grew up so fast – to take care of her. "He got a major part in an off-Broadway play! We're going to be living in New York City, honey!" she gushed.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You're going to love NYC so much – there's a very sophisticated school nearby where we live and I just _know_ you'll be the most popular guy in school because of our accent and-"

"Mum, I'm not moving to America with you," I told her flatly. Victoria stopped in her diatribe to look at me in confusion.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm staying in St. Helens," I informed her. She made a face.

"But baby, you hate St. Helens," she told me.

"I don't anymore," I replied. "I have lots of really good friends there." I saw her glance at Francis and hastily continued. "And Albert needs me; he's so lonely up there."

"You want to stay in St. Helens?" She sounded confused, like the idea was foreign to her. I saw her glance at Francis again. "Why?"

"I just told you, mum, I have friends here and I'm getting pretty decent marks and Albert needs me," I told her.

"Does this have anything to do with your boyfriend?" she asked and I blushed.

"Partially," I said reluctantly.

"To tell you the truth, I think that boy is in love with you," Victoria said, dropping her voice.

"I think so too," I whispered back.

"Do you love him?" she asked me and I blanched.

"I like him a lot," I said finally.

She beamed. "So cute!" she gushed and I blushed. "But make sure you're careful with him…you're still very young…"

"I know mum, I know." I saw her glance over her shoulder to look at the time. "Do you need to go somewhere?" I asked.

"Calvin promised he'd call soon…" she said uncertainly.

"Don't worry; I'll be fine, mum. Go home so you're there when he calls," I said to her reassuringly, feeling slightly relieved.

"I'll be back soon, alright? I've been sleeping here!" she informed me, sounding proud of herself.

"Why?" I demanded, horrified that my mother had been sleeping uncomfortably on a plastic chair waiting for me to wake up rather than at home in bed.

Victoria looked sheepish. "There's been some crime in our neighbourhood – I didn't want to go back home," she admitted.

"What sort of crime?" I asked her, having a feeling I might know what it was.

"Remember the community centre that we went to for cooking lessons? The building attachment was burnt down to the ground and whoever did it left a stolen far right in the front. Terrible, isn't it?"

"Indeed." A stolen car?

"Well, I should probably get going now," Victoria said hesitantly.

"Bye mum," I said to her, smiling slightly.

"Bye dear," she said, kissing my forehead affectionately before walking out of the room.

The moment she was gone, a nurse came in to check the readings on my heart monitor.

"Are you alright dear? Your heart rate seems to have sped up a while back," she said with a distinctive Scottish accent.

"Yes, I'm fine," I answered.

"Well…just press the call button if you need anything," she said, casting Francis a look, staring for a while, and then walking away.

The moment she was gone Francis was at my side.

"You stole a car?" I asked him. Francis shrugged.

"It was very fast. I liked it. Remind me to buy one when we get back home," he told me.

"It must be nice to be so rich," I said sarcastically to him. He nodded in agreement.

"It is," he said.

"And how was your nap?" I asked.

"…intéressant," Francis said.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I thought you might've wanted to go to America with your mother…after all that's happened to you," he said in a quiet voice, and I was surprised to see this new vulnerable side of Francis.

"But it's sunnier in America and besides, you'd be too far away from the rest of your family," I pointed out.

"Then I would stay in St. Helens," Francis replied.

I stared at him, not understanding what he meant. And then it hit me.

"ARE YOU BREAKING UP WITH ME?" I yelled angrily, wincing in pain the moment I did. Francis flinched. "You asshole! You promised you'd stay you fucking…fucking…" I looked away.

"Mon chou, are you crying?" Francis asked, gently turning my face back to him. I glared at him.

"Don't 'mon chou' me!" I said furiously [ignoring the wince Francis made as I butchered the French words]. "I'm not crying."

"Arthur, I was talking about what would be best for the both of us," Francis said soothingly, wiping the stray tears away from my face. "I didn't say that I wanted to do that."

"So you aren't leaving?" I asked.

"No, not at all," he promised, kissing my lips gently. I turned away.

"Good," I grumbled.

"It's not the smartest idea," he began but I cut him off.

"Don't even," I said, turning back to glare at him. "If it weren't for you, I'd be dead right now."

"I nearly got you killed," he reminded me, gesturing at my tattered state.

"I was talking about the other times, idiot. If it weren't for you, I'd be rotting in some hole somewhere." Francis winced at my words.

"But what if I accidentally killed you?"

"You didn't so stop thinking about it, ok?" I growled irritably. "There's no point in living in the past. Why couldn't you have just let the venom spread? I could be a vampire too by now," I pointed out.

Francis glared at me. "I will not turn you into something as cursed as a vampire," he said angrily.

"Well newsflash – what are you going to do when I get old? Because as a human, I'm going to and eventually I'm going to die and there's nothing you can do to stop it!" I exclaimed.

Francis was silent. "We can figure that out when the time comes," he said finally. "Besides, that's the natural route for you. That's what your destiny is. I'm not even supposed to be here – I shouldn't even _exist_ in this time period."

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "That's bullshit. It's like going to a person who's just won the lottery, taking their money away and telling them that it's better this way without them being rich," I told him.

"I'm not a lottery prize," Francis told me.

"You're right. You're more annoying," I agreed.

"We're not discussing this anymore," Francis said in a finite voice. "I'm not going to turn you into a vampire and that's final."

"Well, it's not like you're the only one I could ask," I shot at him.

"Feliciano wouldn't dare and Roderich would only do it with my permission," Francis growled.

"Feliciano already saw me as a vampire, didn't he?" I shot at Francis. "That's why you're so pissed. It's inevitable that I'm going to turn into one, whether you like it or not."

"He also saw you dying but that didn't happen, did it?" Francis shot back.

"I wouldn't be betting against Feliciano if _I_ were you," I said heatedly. We glared at each other for a few minutes.

"I'm sorry," Francis said suddenly. "All this arguing isn't good for your current state. I'm calling the doctor," he said, reaching for the button.

"Don't you dare," I growled at him, holding back a wince as I moved my arm to stop him from pressing the call button. "We're not done discussing this."

"Yes we are. You need rest."

"No I don't! I'm fine!"

"Of course you are."

"Hello?" the speaker on the wall asked when Francis pressed the call button.

"Can you tell the nurse that the patient is ready for more pain medication?" Francis asked calmly, completely ignoring the murderous look on my face.

"She'll be in shortly," the voice said before going silent.

"I refuse to take the pain medication," I growled at Francis. Francis smirked.

"They aren't going to make you swallow anything," he told me and I gulped. I hate needles.

The nurse walked into the room with a syringe, staring at Francis, who was still sitting on the bed. He jumped up smoothly and flashed her a winning smile. She blinked a few times and looked dizzy. I glared at him. Stupid frog. She strolled over to one of my tubes and inserted the pain meds.

I could already feel my eyes drooping.

"If you need anything else, just call me," the nurse said breathlessly to Francis. I rolled my eyes, struggling to keep them open.

"You ass, she's probably married," I told Francis when she left, who laughed.

"She is," he replied and I smirked slightly.

"You better stay," I slurred as my eyes couldn't stay open any longer.

"I will," he promised, leaning in to kiss my lips.

"And frog?" I struggled to say.

"Yes?"

"I'm betting on Feliciano," I murmured as I finally drifted into sleep.

* * *

**A/N: This is the last chapter, folks! The epilogue is coming up tomorrow! :D :D **

**Review? *hopeful puppy face***


	28. The Epilogue

Epilogue:

Francis carried me into his car, ignoring my weak punches and death glares. He strapped on my seatbelt, making sure he didn't wrinkle the smooth white fabric or make the corsage fall off.

"Are you going to tell me where we going?" I demanded when he sat down and started driving.

"You can guess~" he sang out with a smirk. I growled.

"Can't I have a hint?" I begged.

"Non~"

"I'm never letting Feliciano ever play dress-up using me _ever_ again," I told Francis. I had spent most of the day with Feliciano and Elizaveta, the two of them fussing over me and making me try on tux after tux after tux – all from very expensive Italian designers. At one point [I shuddered remembering this], Elizaveta had wanted me to wear a dress, forcing me into countless revealing dresses and forcing me to parade them for a very entertained Francis. Thank _God_ Feliciano preferred me wearing a tuxedo to match Francis or I would be wearing something extremely embarrassing.

Just then, we heard the sound of a cell phone ringing. I frowned.

"Your ringtone is the French national anthem?" I questioned. Francis ignored the question and pressed his phone to his ear, driving with only one hand.

"Bonjour Albert~" Francis sang out, looking only a tad anxious.

After returning back home to St. Helens, Albert…well, Albert became very difficult. He seemed to get the idea that my injury was thanks to the fact to the fact that I left and that was thanks to Francis. He was thankful that Roderich managed to save my life, but insanely angry at Francis. For the first time in my life, Albert had given me a curfew and 'visiting hours' that he expected Francis and I to follow.

Francis burst out in surprised laughing, making me stare at him in confusion.

"Vraiment?" he questioned in amusement.

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked suspiciously. Francis ignored me.

"May I speak to him please?" he asked excitedly.

"Speak to _who_?" I asked irritably. Again, Francis ignored me.

"Hello, Taylor, this is Francis Paye," Francis said jovially, evidently relishing in this moment. My jaw dropped open. Taylor? What the hell was _Taylor_ doing at my house? I stared at the offending corsage on my tuxedo and I began to realize where exactly Francis and I were going. "Oh I'm sorry, but Arthur is unavailable tonight. Actually, he isn't available on any other night because he's _mine _and I don't really like to share. Je suis désolé if your evening has been ruined," Francis said, hanging up the phone quickly, a large smirk on his face.

"You're taking me to prom," I said slowly, trying to take in deep calming breaths of air.

"Oui, I am," Francis replied.

"To prom," I repeated.

"Oui."

"To. Prom," I growled.

"I already told you yes, what more do you want?" Francis asked in exasperation.

"WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TAKING ME TO PROM?" I yelled, fixing him with a glare. Francis blinked in surprise.

"Because, it's one of the human things you should experience in your lifetime, Arthur," Francis replied.

"I don't like dancing," I growled.

"I guessed as much. But alas, I do, so you'll have to dance whether you like it or not," Francis replied.

I turned away from him with a huff and stared out the window angrily. "I can't believe you're taking me to prom," I muttered under my breath.

"Where else would we be going?" Francis asked in confusion. "Especially dressed like this."

I didn't bother answering; my answer was too embarrassing.

"Is Albert in on this stupid idea?" I asked, changing the subject. From the window's reflection I could see Francis beam.

"Of course – pity Taylor wasn't."

"Taylor's a bloody idiot." How the fool managed to not notice the fact that Francis and I at school were inseparable was beyond me.

"Indeed," Francis agreed as he pulled up to Lovino's flashy Bugatti Veyron. I blinked.

"Lovino's here?" I asked. The relationship between Lovino and I was still very bad. He refused to even be in the same room as me and never gave me a second glance. It was ironic that I managed to get along moderately well with his kind of husband, Antonio. Antonio could be irritating, and downright scary if the Spanish Armada was mentioned [usually by me because I like taunting him about the British pirates' obvious superiority] but wasn't too bad to talk to. He was entertaining, to say the least.

"Along with Antonio, Feliciano and Ludwig," Francis answered, getting out of the car. As much as I liked the idea of Feliciano being there, I still did not want to get out of the car. "Arthur, please don't be difficult," he sighed as I stared straight ahead, refusing to even take off my seatbelt.

"_You're_ the one being difficult," I muttered. Francis sighed.

"Please?" he begged, kissing my jaw line teasingly. My face turned red as people stared at us.

"Stop kissing me!" I sputtered, trying to push his face away.

"Then get out of the car," Francis said in a finite voice. I scowled.

"Only because if I don't, you'll ruin my dignity," I said finally, unbuckling my seatbelt. Francis beamed.

"Merci, mon chou!" he said jovially, helping me out of my seat. "You'll have fun, I promise," he said gently to me as my frown refused to leave my face.

"I doubt it," I snorted.

We walked into the gym – well, Francis carrying most of my weight. The idiot had kidnapped me before I could grab my crutches. I attempted to hop on one foot and not trip. I rolled my eyes when we got inside of the gym and saw the decorations.

"This is so cheesy – it's like a horror movie just _waiting_ to happen," I said in amusement as I took in the balloon arch, the cheesy streamers and the refreshment table with the large bowl of punch [probably spiked with something, no doubt].

"There _are_ enough vampires here to make it work," Francis said in agreement, helping me over to where his brothers are.

"How about I keep the door locked while you guys attack the innocent humans?" I asked hopefully.

"And what about you? I'm sure it would seem suspicious if we kept you alive," Francis replied.

"Oh, I'm with the pixies, totally invisible from your view," I replied. Francis frowned.

"Pixies?" he asked.

"Yes, pixies," I replied.

"Arthur, pixies don't exist," Francis told me.

"They said the same thing about vampires and well, look at yourself," I replied. Francis laughed.

"You have a point," he said. "But I don't think pixies exist."

I sighed. Time to convert a non-believer. "See Peter over there?" I asked, pointing at a blissfully pleased Peter slow-dancing with a not as equally enthusiastic Michelle [who, may I add, had been giving Francis the scariest death glares I have ever seen ever since the day she saw us holding hands].

"Why is he dancing by himself?" Francis asked in confusion.

"Squint your eyes," I told him.

Francis narrowed his eyes, frowning a little in confusion. He narrowed them even more until they were just little slits. His eyes flew open wide.

"There's a girl with him!" he exclaimed. "And she has wings!"

"That's Michelle – she's a pixie," I told him, triumphant.

"Non, that can't be true…" Francis said in horror.

"You better believe it's true. There's more of her kind here too – just look around," I said, motioning to the dance floor with a hand.

"I can't believe I've never seen these people before," Francis said in horror. "So many people who I could've made love to – I've never made love to a pixie before!"

"And you never will," I growled, holding onto Francis tighter than I should've. "How sad for you. Let's get to the table so I can sit down."

Francis turned his attention back to me, laughing. "Is someone jealous?" he teased.

I glared at him. "Hardly," I scoffed.

"Now, shall we dance?" Francis said suddenly, pulling me onto the dance floor.

"No! I just said – we're going to the table so I can sit down!" I exclaimed in horror.

"You can sit down later," Francis said smoothly, pulling me to him and placing a hand on my waist. "Let's dance!"

"Why am I in the female role?" I growled as Francis balanced my left leg [still in cast] on his right foot, helping me dance better.

Francis didn't reply, staring past me with a frown on my face.

"What's wrong with you?" I asked in confusion, turning around to I could see what he was staring at.

Alfred F. Jones, wearing a long dress shirt and a tie [with an American flag design on it] was walking over to us.

Francis let out a soft growl.

"Behave," I hissed at him.

Alfred approached us, looking at the two of us awkwardly, a look of embarrassment on his face. "H-hey Arthur," Alfred said after an uncomfortable pause.

"Hello Alfred," I greeted him politely.

"Can I cut in?" Alfred asked Francis hopefully. I was surprised to see how much Alfred had grown. The last time we had seen each other, I had been taller. Now, he was a full head taller.

Francis frowned, but pushed me gently to Alfred so I wouldn't fall over while talking. He walked away to join Ludwig at the table [who, I guessed, hated dancing as much as I did] and Alfred and I stared at each other awkwardly.

"So uh, you've gotten taller," I remarked and Alfred laughed.

"I think I'm six something now or something," Alfred replied. "Or least, that's what dad tells me."

"So why are you here anyways?" I asked curiously after a pause. "You don't even go to this school."

Alfred grimaced. "My dad promised to get me that car part I really wanted if I came here and told you some message. He even paid me twenty bucks, can you believe it?"

"No." Yes. Yes, I could actually believe it. "So what's the message?" I asked.

Alfred's grimace grew. "I don't want to say," he said.

"Just tell me, Alfred, I'll get it," I told him.

"He wants me to tell you to break up with your boyfriend because he thinks that he's the reason why you're hurt," Alfred blurted out, looking embarrassed. My jaw dropped. "I told you I didn't wanna say it," he grumbled.

"Tell George that I fell down stairs. If it weren't for Francis and his father getting me to the hospital in time, I would've been hurt even worse," I told him.

"I know," Alfred murmured.

"Is that all George wanted me to know?" I asked him.

"No," Alfred mumbled.

"What is it then?" I asked.

"Screw it – I can get myself a job and get the parts with my own money," Alfred said, looking embarrassed.

"Just tell me what your father wanted you to tell me," I growled, fixing him with a glare.

"He wanted to warn you that uh… 'we'll be watching'. Stupid, right?" Alfred said, turning red. I laughed.

"Sorry you had to do this," I said with amusement.

"Well it's not so bad," Alfred admitted. "You look good," he added as an afterthought, glancing at my corsage.

"Thank you," I said, mildly surprised. "So… are you enjoying prom?" I asked.

Alfred shrugged. "I think I can wait two years for my school's prom," he admitted.

"See any girls that you fancy?" I asked him with a smirk, glancing over a group of girls who were dancing in a large circle. Alfred made a face.

"I'm not really into that," he mumbled and I blushed.

"Oh, sorry. Any guys?" I asked, covering up my mistake.

"Yeah, but he's kinda taken," Alfred admitted. I stared at him in confusion before looking away in embarrassment. I _had_ been too convincing on the beach when we first met. I felt terribly guilty. "Well, I should go," Alfred said loudly, face still slightly red. "I promised Ari and Mathias that'd I meet them at the movies in a half hour to see the newest Harry Potter movie," he explained.

"Oh, alright. Have fun! The newest movie is really good – I was sad when Dobby died, though," I said with a frown. Alfred let out a gasp.

"You ruined the movie!" he said dramatically. I rolled my eyes.

"You should've read the book, idiot," I told him. Alfred pouted.

"I'll see you later – hopefully you don't spoil other movies for me too!" Alfred exclaimed, walking off. Almost immediately afterwards Francis appeared by my side, pulling me into his arms for another dance, a frown on his face.

"What's up with you?" I asked.

"He said you look 'good'. Is he blind? You look better than good," Francis said, pulling me closer to him possessively. I blushed as the song ended into a more upbeat song.

"Isn't this a little too upbeat for this type of dance?" I asked. Francis smirked.

"Do you want to dance like them?" Francis asked, gesturing towards our grinding and gyrating peers. My face turned a bright red.

"N-no!" I sputtered.

Francis laughed. "Why not? It looks like lots of fun," he teased, a lecherous glint in his eye.

"I'm going outside," I muttered, pushing his arms off of me and hobbling towards the door. Francis caught up to me and supported me as we passed Michelle and Peter [I had to avert my eyes from sheer horror], Aaron and Katherine, a shy looking Kiku dancing with Ben [I suppose he finally got the courage to ask Ben to prom], and Laurent with a boy I recognized as Jake from my English class, second semester. I was amazed that I knew all these people by face. I had changed so much from when I first moved to St. Helens from London.

When we got outside, we saw a lit pathway to a gazebo; soft slow music was playing in the background.

"Shall we?" Francis asked as I let him lead me to the center and put his arms around my waist. I hoped no one would come walking down the pathway.

I stared past Francis's shoulder of the various shades of colour from the sunset, resting my head against Francis chest, always amazed that his heart was still beating albeit much, much slower than a human's heat would beat.

"You seemed surprised when you realized you were going to prom," Francis said suddenly. "Why is that? Where did you think we were going?" he asked.

I blushed. "N-nowhere," I stammered in embarrassment.

"Tell me," Francis begged, kissing my jaw line.

"You need to stop doing that," I growled turning a bright red.

"Then tell me," Francis said, continuing to kiss my jaw.

"I-I thought you finally decided to…" I railed off, feeling stupid.

"To what?" Francis asked. I looked at him and it suddenly dawned on him. "You thought we had to dress to turn you into a vampire?" he teased.

"Shut up, it's not funny," I growled, flushing.

"It's twilight again," Francis murmured, ignoring me. "The end of a day. No matter how amazing it was, it always has to come to an end," he mused.

"It's bloody early evening – stop romanticizing it! Besides, some things don't have to end," I pointed out.

"Why are you so intent on becoming a monster?" Francis exclaimed.

"Why are you so intent on not changing me?" I shot back at him.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked. I nodded. "Are you ready now?" he prompted, leaning in and glancing at my neck.

I gulped, hoping he couldn't hear my heart beating.

Francis leaned in even closer, his cold lips pressed against my jugular vein. I shivered from the contact, my heart beating wildly as I waited for the bite.

Francis pulled back, smirking. "Did you really think I was going to change you?" he asked incredulously.

"A boy can wish," I replied, disappointed.

"You wish to become a soulless monster?" Francis asked me. I winched at his words.

"No. I just…I just want to be with you forever," I murmured, burying my face into Francis's chest in embarrassment. Francis held me tightly.

"I will be with you for as long as you live," Francis promised me. "Happy?"

"For now," I said reluctantly and Francis laughed.

"Je t'aime," Francis murmured. I smiled slightly.

"I love you too," I said and Francis smiled too, leaning down to press his lips against my neck once more.

**The End.**

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**A/N: Holy fudgeballs, 300+ reviews? I love you all so damn much it's not even funny. I think I may love you more than I love my parents [but that's not really too hard to do]~! Thank you so much to everyone who's been story-alerting, faving and reviewing! It means sososososososososo much to me and it really makes me happy ^^ **

**Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for, the sneak preview to _Where Did The Moon Go?_ the next story story in iBee Saga! :D **

**Well, here ya go! Hopefully it'll be up sometime this week!**

_Preface: _

_I could feel my legs going numb from exhaustion as I pushed my way past the crowd. Or perhaps it was from the cold – I wasn't really sure. _

_Feliciano had said that there was a very strong change we would die in the sunny yet frozen hell. Perhaps it would've ended differently if he could be running with me and not trapped by the bright sunlight that would make him shine like snow under my feet. It was all up to me, and I was terrible at running._

_So, in a weird way, I was thankful that we were fully surrounded by our bloodthirsty enemies. At least, when I failed, I would die immediately. I didn't want to live if I failed. _

_The clock struck noon and the sun shone from above in the exact centre of the sky. _

_It was too late. _

_We were doomed. _

_I had failed._

_We were going to die._

_Chapter One:_

_I think I might've been dreaming. I'm not too sure, but I'm pretty sure I was. For one thing, I was in a very sunny place. Too sunny to even be St. Helens, where I lived. Secondly, I was looking at Grandpa Artie – who, may I add, had been dead for at least a decade now. Either he decided to haunt me after so long, or I was dreaming._

_Grandpa Artie still looked the same from when I last saw him so long ago – that wrinkly withered face with large grey eyebrows, the twinkling green eyes and the scowl on his face. Yup, just the way he used to look like._

_Our jaws both dropped at the sight of each other. Obviously, Grandpa Artie hadn't been expecting to see me in this sunny place either. I opened my mouth to ask him where we were and saw Grandpa open his mouth too. I closed it to let him speak just as he did the same. I stared at each other awkwardly. _

_"Arthur?" a musical voice called out, the French accent just barely there. Grandpa and I both turned around to find the source of the sound, though I already knew who it was. _

_Francis strolled over to me, a beam on his face; his arms open as he stepped into the sunlight._

_I blanched, thinking of Grandpa. He didn't know I was gay – or that I was dating a vampire. Nobody knew that last bit; we were trying to keep that part a secret. So why the hell was Francis exposing himself to Grandpa like this? How the hell was I supposed to explain to my grandfather that my extremely attractive boyfriend was a sparkly vampire? With my luck, he'd probably haunt my father and suggest that I be sent to a mental asylum._

_I turned to face my grandfather with a panicked expression on my face, trying to figure out a way to explain Francis's sparkliness. It was too late; Grandpa was staring at me in panic, obviously horrified of Francis. Francis ignored the look of panic on my grandfather's face and put his arms around me, resting his face on my shoulder._

_And then – this was the really weird part – Grandpa's expression changed. He seemed sheepish, like he was waiting for me to say something to him. He held his hands at his chest, as though he was holding on to something – the way I was holding on to Francis's hands that were around my chest…_

_And that's when I noticed it. The large oval like frame that encircled my grandfather's figure. My eyes widened, panicking rising as my grandfather's did the same. I reached out to him and Grandpa did the same. Rather than meet his warm [or maybe corpse cold] fingers, I was met with cold glass._

_Just like that, my bizarre dream had turned into a nightmare._

_That wasn't Grandpa I was looking at._

_I was looking at me in a mirror, Francis the vampire completely unseen in the reflection. Me with wrinkled and withering skin, me with the large grey eyebrows – me looking ancient and old and Francis still looking like the seventeen year old he would be for forever._

_Francis leaned in and pressed his lips to my wrinkled, horrible cheek._

_"Bon anniversaire, mon cher," he whispered. _


End file.
